Fight Outside My House

I like how people get in fights in front of my house like it’s nothing [insert sarcasm stare]. Can’t you see I’m chillin’ and watching a movie?! But no, now I feel the strong desire to be a chismoso like everybody else. I can’t even peek my head out the window because society urged us to place bars throughout our windows in order to make it harder for thieves to break in. I see the police lights hitting all of my walls so this incident must be good. It leaves me no choice but to step out from my front door in my John Stockton-like shorts. Besides, it’s too hot and I keep it real.

I hear some scuffling and drunk jibberish. The cops then bust out their handcuffs and arrest the two dudes. In Mexico there is no “either/or”–all men are lovers AND fighters. I wonder if the cops feel like the Ghostbusters the moment they hear the last handcuff clicks around the perpetrators’ wrists. Two less pendejos disturbing the peace. These cops definitely feel accomplished or else they wouldn’t have that cocky grin on their face. Well done officers, well done…

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