A Thousand Words
After my sister in law got thrown out of the house in Mexico City by her chilango wise ass know it all husband,she finally caught a guy in TJ that she married and settled down with. It was a quest on her part to find the right victum.She'd gone through guys on both sides of the border(most of them certified wackos),but her spider web finally snared her present husband.His name is Ruben. He owns a building on Negrete Street and a bar downtown on Avenida Revolucion. A few years back they opened a tacito joint on Revolution but despite the down turn with tourism, is still hanging in there.
Once in a while I stop buy Ruben's place to have a beer and catch up with things in the neighborhood.The bar has been around for years. It's one of the last local watering holes left downtown. The similar bars and cantinas gave way to the discotecas that catered to the local teenagers. But then the discotecas began to disappear because of the swankier joints that opened up in the Rio. Where that money came from is anyone's guess,but watch the news and use your imagination.
Ruben's Bar is a cubby hole. I once told him to put a sign outside that says "Welcome to Ruben's Bar. The smallest bar in Tijuana."He never put up the sign. I thought it might make the foot traffic curious. But he still gets a crowd. Small ,but regular.
The other day I was waiting for some framing to be done on a painting so I decided to kill some time at Rubens. I walked inside and saw him behind the bar counting the receipts from the night before.
"Rogelio,"he said. "Como estas?Como estan tus hermanas?"
"Bien gracias amigo?"
I swear you couldn't find a nicer guy.He had a round face with a brushy mustache. He walked with a distinct limp the result of a lousy hip replacement job he had done down there.My sister in law must have had Ruban in her sights from the get go. She used to tend bar for him in the beginning. Ruben was a confirmed bachelor,so it seemed,but leave it to Miss Hour Glass to reel him in.
"I'll have a Tecate Ruben."
The bar was empty. The sun was shining through the door. It was a quiet morning.I gazed up and saw a picture behind the bar.
"Where did you get that picture of Chavez?I've never seen it before,"I asked.
"When he was in town to fight Danilo Cabrera. He stopped in one night. He was making the rounds up and down the street with the Mariachis.I found it laying around. I just put it up."
Chavez was surrounded by hanger ons who wanted to be seen drinking with the champ.
"Is Maria with you?"
"No. I'm having some work done on a painting."
I was looking at the picture.
"I saw a similar picture like that with Chavez down the street at the Tropics,"I said.
"The Dandy across the the street has one like this. You'll see Chavez in pictures drinking all over town in just about all the bars."
"The drinking caught up with him,"I said.
"All the people in those pictures left him when couldn't buy them a drink anymore."
"Not to mention the drugs."
A man walked in selling newspapers. Ruben didn't want any.
"A picture says a thousand words,"I said.
"There's a lot of stories on the walls in Tijuana."
"I see Chavez now doing the announcing for the fights on Telemundo."
"Chavez does a good job,"said Ruben.
"He was in rehab."
"Maybe the demons are gone,"said Ruben.
"Well if he ever wants to remember what it was like there are plenty of picture to remind him."
J.C. Chavez
