Easter Sunday in San Antonio. I am rejoicing after returning from Mexico with a new lease of US visa life, having not found any wives in the US yet. Before I sit on a bus to Austin for six hours, I must eat something. Perhaps I’ll treat myself to a celebratory steak or a twelve […]
It’s nice not knowing anything about a place and turning up with no preconceptions. The only preconception I had about Boys’ Town was that there was a bar with few women that wasn’t a brothel that sold cheap booze. I had been there the night before. And getting there would involve avoiding eye contact with
The Revenge of Boys' Town Read More »
Although I had just eaten, I stepped into a nearby restaurant and ordered some more food. I hadn’t come across many English speakers in this part of town, and had previously resorted to asking for things like ‘breakfast’ and ‘food’, given the utter inadequacy of my Spanish vocabulary. But this place had an interpretter. The
On the way to Boys' Town. Again. Read More »
