Thursday, 24 May 2012

Lauren, Part Three

I was in no mood to check long distance coach fares and schedules that day, so we arranged to meet just after Christmas to go to the main coach terminal to sort everything out. There are several coach companies running to the border and it struck me as easier just to go along in person rather than try and do it on the telephone or web. Sure enough, I was able to ask questions, compare prices, and get a rather nice deal on a luxury coach that was leaving for Nuevo Laredo, right on the border, on New Year's Eve. That was probably why it was so cheap, but Lauren was not in the least bit concerned about spending the first few hours of 2012 on a coach as it blasted through the deserts of northern Mexico; all she wanted to do was get out of the country.

Lauren gave me an old fashioned look as I translated the price of the ticket, which came to about £75.00, and began to mutter that she did not know if she had such an exorbitant amount in her possession, what was she going to do, and would not kind gentleman help her out? You are familiar with the routine, I am sure, and all I did was stand back and enjoy the theatrical performance.

"I take it you're not going to help a poor little girl,"  she said, acidly.

"Not until she performs to my complete satisfaction," I replied, genially.

Lauren immediately discovered that she did have some extra money after all, and how could she be so silly as to forget it? I just grinned at her attempt to pull a fast one and to her eternal credit, Lauren had the decency to grim shamefacedly back at me.

"If you are going to try it on, at least be original," I told her as we left the coach station.

"It sometimes works," she answered with a shrug.

"Life can little else supply, but a few good fucks, and then we die," I told her.

"That sounds like a quote," she said.

"It's from John Wilkes, an eighteenth century English radical who understood many things. The quote is from his Essay on Women. I have it written on my business cards," I told her. 

"I do not fucking believe you! Prove that to me!" Lauren was whooping with delight, clearly thinking that she had caught a bullshitter in the act, so I pulled out my wallet and handed over one of my cards.

"Look on the back," I told her. She did, and sure enough her eyes widened as she read my little motto.

"Good God and sonny fucking Jesus, too! So what do folks say when you hand one of these out?"

"If I gave a fuck what people thought about me, I wouldn't have those cards," I told her.

"OK, I understand that," she replied, nodding her head. "Can we go for lunch? I promise not to spend too much of your hard earned money, but I honestly do not have much left now."

"Let's have a good lunch and we can discuss what we are going to do for the rest of the afternoon. There are some very comfortable hotels in this district which rent rooms by the three hour period, we can go to one of them after we have eaten," I told her.

"Can I have a nice big juicy steak for lunch?"

"Of course you can, my dear. And afterwards you can have an even nicer lump of meat in the hotel," I told her, making her giggle.

So off we went to eat.

To be continued.

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