Having toiled all day under the unforgiving sun and having driven around in search of product, I became a thirsty traveler with an unending thirst. I usually do not find myself west of Santa Maria, but on this particular, odd Sunday morning, I stumbled across an oasis, amidst rumbling locomotives.
Much to my disappointment, this oasis of love and beer, this Mecca of liquid from the gods, had yet to swing open its doors for business, and being it was God's day of rest, and a non-Dallas Cowboys Sunday, I was rejected the opportunity to guzzle down a cold, domestic beer.
No matter how much I kicked at the door, yelled through the windows, or pumped my fist in an Eddie Macon-fury way, the doors simply did not open for this disenchanted south Laredoan. It was probably all for the best, for all I had in my pocket were 4 varos, not enough for even a 6 pack of Bud, and having learned from their signage, they are not to keen on credit. Oh well, off I go to el Hevito then.
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