Pollo Loco, Jonnie Walker Black, and Tito; A Christmas to Remember

It’s Christmas again and I’m very glad to be here for the show. Each year when Santa’s birthday rolls around, I get teary eyed and emotional. This year is no exception. I had the great luck to bring a flight into Torreon, Mexico last night and spend the day alone in my hotel. My crew had friends here to visit and I spent the better portion of the day in my room knocking out my to-do list like it was Monday before vacation. I finally got motivated in the afternoon or rather; I realized if I avoided human interaction all day, I was going to go watermelons. I took a stroll around the area, ate a late lunch at Pollo Loco (ranks up there with Zaxby’s), and settled in at the hotel bar. The bar was not crowded this Christmas evening and by that I mean, I WAS THE ONLY GUY IN THE HOTEL. To celebrate Santa’s birth and have one for the ole Hitch, I ordered a round of Jonnie Walker Black and I stood very close to a small vanilla cake that had succeeded in breaking through my bikini body plan and entered my veins like the red Matrix pill. Life was getting better by the minute.

Enter Tito, my newest amigo. Tito was the bartender and introduced himself as such after a few minutes of listening to my “needs improvement” Spanish. The more I heard about Tito and his family, the more I began to realize just how living in a privileged country like America can alter and sugar coat the callousness of reality. Tito is 38 years old, never married, and lives to take care of his Mother. He has 3 nieces and 2 nephews that he gets soft about every time he mentions them. And here comes the tough part, he works from 11am to 11pm every day of the week. He said he tries to take off Friday every other week. “Why does he work so much?” you ask. Because here in Torreon, the average wage for hourly type help is $5 dollars PER DAY. My new friend and I talked for 2 hours before I finally had to get going. I feel very fortunate to have met Tito here today and thankful for the random luck that placed me in the middle of nowhere Alabama 32 years ago. I am back in my room now. Two minutes ago, Tito knocked on my door and gave me a plastic cup full of my favorite cacahuates con limon(Peanuts with Lime). If meeting him and setting down to write this didn’t already have me ready to jump for joy and weep simultaneously, him showing up at my room with a small gift certainly does. Merry Christmas Tito.

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