If there’s one thing I can't stand it’s people who are always dragging in remarks about their travels. The last man I ran into like this was in Carmel. That’s in California where I was last year. It’s a little town right on the coast and practically everybody paints or makes pottery or something unusual like that. It’s called an art colony. It really is. Yeah? Well I don’t know why Carmel would remind you that you had to buy your wife a box of chocolates. It’s pronounced differently. Anyway this guy I met there had been in England and every ten minutes he dropped things like: “This place re-
minds me of the pubs we saw in England when we were there, only you don’t ask for a menu in a pub, you just sit there talking about the rain and things like that and if the owner
likes you she'll finally tell you that she has a nice trout that day or something.” He could drag England in on any excuse. He was like a real-estate man I met when I was down in Meckicko. 1 guess that sounds a bit funny to you, but if you pronounced it Mecksicko down there the people would laugh at you. That's the real Meckickans — I don’t mean the kind you find in totirist spots like Tijuana. Pardon? What about the real-estate man? Oh. yeah. Well,
I was sitting in this little bar—it’s a place that tourists never find; even most of the Meckickans don’t know it’s there. I was drinking a torquilla. That’s a drink—Oh. You really got to gel those chocolates for your wife? Well, maybe I'll see you again soon. Adios, amigo. That’s what everybody says
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