The Proposition

      It was quarter to five and I hadn’t even ordered my drink – there were just too many people!  I knew coming here to celebrate Cinco de Mayo would be a bad idea.  Every year we do the same exact thing:  Wake up, go to work, clock out and head down to the border for parties.  Sure, it SOUNDS like a good idea, but it really isn’t.  The amount of people that decided to do exactly as we did is insurmountable.  I know it’s a Mexican holiday and everything, but c’mon – I can’t even order myself a margarita without trampling over fifty people!  It seems like I’m Napoleon himself – attempting to conquer the Mexicans whilst having a single soldier from France and a few weapons (My friends, considering they’re drunk out of their minds.) 
        I stared at the list of drinks while the mariachi band set up in the background.  I finally decided on something simple – a Holy Mary, a special of the place we frequent.  I took a seat near the stage – I like to be able to hear the band over the roaring sound of the drunkards partying. I pulled out my book on civil rights and continued from where I left off, reading about the Women’s Rights Movement.  It took only a few minutes for me to notice the dark shadow out of the corner of my eye, staring straight at me.  The man in black approached my table, sat down and looked me in the eye.
         “I have a proposition for you….”


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