BLOOD IN, BLOOD OUT - TWWW part 6

“When a person becomes a member of a certain gang they must kill a designated person in order to join said gang (blood in) and the only way out of the gang is to die (blood out)” as quoted from the Urban Dictionary.



Xavier never liked being driven around. He liked being at the helm plus he never really trusted anyone. He no longer had a choice. A driver came and picked him up in the morning and took him home after training was done. A small black sedan, blacked out windows and door locks controlled from the front seat. Divider glass separated him from the driver, who was never very talkative. One day he went to a warehouse where he was instructed how to build a gun and how to take one apart from a man whose arms were bigger than most women’s hips. They couldn’t rest at his sides; they simply suspended themselves midway in the air. Xavier wondered how his big fingers could handle the intricate mechanisms of a gun.

On this day Xavier was led into an empty office. Aside from the fluorescents above, the only light came from a small window which offered a lovely view of a brick wall. The room had the bare minimum; a desk, a chair and a phone. The attending agent gave him a pen and a notepad with a list of names and numbers. Over the past two weeks since he joined the agency, aside from his driver, everyone was a new face. This agent didn’t give his name, most of them didn’t. He had a wedding band on, he was asian and middle-aged. His deep voice suggested he should have been working in voice-over’s rather then working for them. He told Xavier he would be his instruction for the next week – vocal coaching. “You have no Mexican accent. I’m going to teach you how to get it back along with a few other dialects. With your coloring you can pass for a couple of nationalities. But first you have to make a few calls. You are to tell them to meet you at the date, time and place listed on page 1. Get as many as you can to show up. Call extension 19 if you have any questions. There’s a bathroom behind the door on your left and don’t leave this room. Understand?”

“Yes. Hey, am I going to see agent Romulus…”

“Yes, later.”

The man walked out. Xavier recognized all the names on the list. He let out a deep sigh. This was the beginning of his initiation. There were their names and numbers along with the names and numbers of family, girlfriends, wives…anyone and everyone they may or may not remotely speak to on a regular basis. He made his first call.

ALMOST LIKE NEW, BUT NOT QUITE - article 3

I was at a non-church church get together and a couple of the young ladies were talking about their purity rings. For you non-Christians; a purity ring is when girls and guys (hello to the Jonas Brothers) pledge their virginity to God until they get married. I know this may seem like a daft concept to some people but waiting til marriage has many benefits. For instance:

1. You’re being obedient to our Heavenly Father.
2. No STD’s (but not necessarily if you’re doing everything but…)
3. Avoiding bitterness
4. It makes you smarter (It’s a proven fact that keeping your legs closed keeps your eyes and ears open – therefore your idiot radar stays intact.
5. You have more time for hobbies.
6. You have closer friendships – because you’re not relying on some fool that’s never gonna be right anyway cause he’s a selfish, self-serving… (see #3)
7. You maintain a good sense of self worth.
8. Your credit score stays higher.
9. (@ youngsters and 30 year old guys staying in mom and dad’s basement. No I am not judging you) You have better relationships with your parents because you’re not always lying about where you’ve been and who you were with and why you don’t have the same cloths on you were wearing when you left this morning.
10. You avoid that deep gapping hole, you try to fill with food or more sex, which comes from giving yourself away to some moron that wouldn’t know a treasure even if someone smacked him across the face with gold deblumes. (see #3)

ARE YOU A TEAM PLAYER ?- TWWW part 5

There are six things the LORD hates,
seven that are detestable to him:
haughty eyes,a lying tongue,
hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes,
feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies
and a man who stirs up dissension among brothers.
Taken from Proverbs 6:16-19 (New International Version)

Xavier woke up in a small room. One interior window with smoked glass, probably 2-way he guessed. His first view was of the glazed concrete floor. The slight hum must have been the air conditioner. He looked up at the vents on each wall near the ceiling. There were two men standing in front of him, he himself was sitting, unrestrained, in the only chair. One man he recognized, he was the one who shot Raymond. The other was a white guy. Xavier noticed they both had dark suits on, the good kind; specifically tailored for each body. There was no way the black guy could buy anything off the rack. His jacket fit perfectly, from neck to shoulder and from shoulder the wrist. Xavier looked behind him, there was the door.

“I want to talk to my lawyer,” Xavier said. “Shut up”, the white guy replied. “I’m agent Percy Grimm and this is agent Romulus Perry. Xavier laughed, “Man…you serious? Agents Percy Grimm and Romulus Perry. That’s funny.”

“Our names are funny to you?” Romulus asked.

“Aren’t they funny to you?” Xavier answered still laughing. “So which of you is the good cop and which is the bad cop.

“What do you think?” Percy asked.

“Well, I’d say the brother is the bad guy, but that would be stereotypical”.

“Actually, we’re both the bad guy,” Percy said.

“I guess I'm screwed then right?. So when do I get my phone call?”

Romulus turned his back to say something to Percy. Xavier saw this has his chance, he was closest to the door; Romulus was like a tower, don’t try to fight with him, just knock him out with the chair. The supercuts salt and pepper guy was smaller, Xavier knew he could take him easy. They probably had guns in their waistband, maybe one at the ankle, but it takes a few seconds to get to that. The brotha’s a tall guy; it’ll take him a while to bend down to get his gun. ‘I can do this,’ he said pumping himself up. Xavier raised the chair over his head. Percy didn’t blink an eye. He spoke over his shoulder toward whoever was hiding behind the 2-way glass, “Now.”

PINK IS THE NEW BLACK - article #2

Recently, I was standing behind two young ladies in line. We were paying our entrance fee to get into the museum. The man behind the counter was extra attentive. He stood up to physically, and complete with plane landing gestures, direct the ladies to the exhibit. My turn came; I received very little eye contact, a forced smile and a very dry, “Go down the walkway, the elevator is out so take the stairs and it’s to the left.” “Thanks,” I said.
It turns out the ladies and I were going to the same exhibit. As I walked behind them, I noticed all the male attention they were getting. The men stopped in mid-stroll and said ‘hello’ as the ladies walked toward them, as opposed to after they had passed. Of course, there were the expected lingering glances to the ladies behinds. It must be nice I thought to myself. Please note; no attention was paid to my behind.
The cashier neglected to mention the stairs reached into the heavens. I stopped at the bottom of the 2+ story staircase. I looked up and contemplated if I really wanted to see this exhibit. After all, the children’s museum was open and it was on the ground level. This might be good, I can finger paint. I decided to put on my big girl panties; I took a deep breath, fully realizing it could be my last, and made my first step.
The young ladies were several steps ahead of me. They were giggling. Please note; I found their joy annoying. Oh and look...we passed yet another guy, offering them a full hearted greeting. I made it midway up the staircase, I paused to catch my breath. Then I saw what all the fuss was about.

DOES THIS AK GO WITH MY BROOKS BROTHER SUIT - TWWW Part 4

You never let a serious crisis go to waste. And what I mean by that [is] it's an opportunity to do things you think you could not do before. – Rahm Emanuel (Current White House Chief of Staff)

This was way too easy, Xavier thought. He was going back and forth across the border weekly. He usually traveled alone, but his younger cousin, Angel wanted to come along with him on a few ‘pick-ups. He was hoping to get his own route. The cartel was still in the beginning stages and doing well, but Xavier wasn’t too proud to do the work. He had been doing the pick-ups for over a year now, with no trouble. He’d drive into Mexico and pick up enough weapons to outfit a militia along with several hundred thousand dollars worth of drugs, and drive them over the border to either Texas or Los Angeles by way of San Diego. This white truck had a cornucopia of fruits and vegetables and letters spelling out, “Del Soto Farms”, on each side. Xavier pulled his class “C” license out of his wallet. There was a small line before the border patrol agents would get to them. He ran his fingers over his picture. “What’s up man?” Angel asked. Xavier held up the card to him, Marcus Delgado it read. “Who’s that?” Angel asked. “Hell if I know, but it cracks me up every time I look at it. Oh yeah, remember, while the agents are around call me Marcus.”

“What’s my name? Angel asked”
“Jose”
“Man that’s generic”
“Lesson number 1 Angel, blend. Be what they want you to be…what they think you should be.”

There was one more car ahead of them. Xavier glanced down and noticed Angel’s open duffle bag sitting between them on the seat. It was filled with his clothes, a pair of tennis shoes and a handgun with a bag of marijuana resting on top.
“Angel are you stupid?” Xavier shifted his eyes down towards the bag.

The car ahead of them was driving off. “Don’t do anything sudden, just act regular…and smile.” One agent was sitting in the booth while the other was standing outside with his clipboard and pen in his hands and a gun in his holster. Angel casually brought the bag closer to his body and leaned on it as if it was an arm rest.
“Anything to claim?” the agent asked. Angel kept trying to pull the sides of the duffle bag together and discreetly move the gun which was digging into his forearm.
“No sir,” Xavier answered.
“What’s your business?”
“Truck driver. I’m bringing produce to some markets into San Diego and Los Angeles.”
“Yeah, I think I recognize the truck. You usually travel alone right?” the agent said looking over at Angel, who was doing his best to look relaxed.
“Yes. I’m training him.”
“Let me see your id and your paperwork.” Xavier handed it to him.
“Ahh yes, Marcus, I do remember you”

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT - TWWW PART 3

"The nine most terrifying words in the English language are, I’m from the government
and I’m here to help”. – Ronald Reagan


Trouble tends to come when you think you’re almost done. He was 3rd from the last in line. A young man; 18 years old and very handsome. He had dark hair filled with freshly shorn curls and piercing brown eyes. Stacey looked back at stationary Charlie; “73624”. He repeated, “73624, Xavier Dicastro”

“You’re Xavier Dicastro?” she asked while loading the needle; so consumed with what she was doing, she never looked up. “Yes”, Xavier said calmly searching his surroundings. Stacey checked the forms he handed her, asking questions which were confirmed. She reached for his right hand and he instead grabbed her. “And you are?” he said, tucking his head to catch her until she was forced to look up. “Excuse me”, she said.

“My name is Xavier Dicastro, What’s yours?” “Your english accent is perfect”, Stacey remarked. It caused her to look at him more closely. “I watch a lot of American movies, especially the gangster ones. I like this old one by Quentin Tarentino called Reservoir Dogs. Have you heard of it?” he said.

By this time bouncing Bob had the nozzle of his semi buried somewhere in Xavier’s shoulder blade. Stacey couldn’t help but think what a good call it was to have given Bouncing Bob the downer, otherwise Xavier would have been minus a left shoulder. “Stand down young man,” Bouncing Bob said with unexpected authority. ‘Young man,’ Stacey mused to herself. Bouncing Bob didn’t seem much older than Xavier.

“Yes…I’ve seen it. It’s a classic.” She lied. She hadn’t seen it. Her husband liked it. As a matter of fact, she believed it was part of the home viewing collection buried somewhere between her unopened exercise DVD’s and romantic comedy’s. The other soldiers were coming around and they too had their nozzles aimed at various places on Xavier’s body. Yet, he didn’t seem phased. His eyes never left Stacey’s and he was still holding onto her wrist. “It’s alright”, she said to the soldiers. “It’s ok,” she said this time to Xavier, “It’s just an immunization shot.” She held up the piercing gun. “See, it’s just a shot”.

“I see” he said. “It’s to protect me from any diseases I might pick up from you white people.”

“Exactly”, she answered, trying to offer up a smile.

PUT YOUR RIGHT HAND OVER YOUR HEART - Part 2

“Our guinea pigs are here!” one of the Charlie’s announced with more excitement than he should have. Stacey moved a few steps away from him. Some of the agents were too young and too hopped up on coffee or adrenaline shots to be there at 2 A.M. in the morning holding semi automatic weapons.

“Can you please keep it down? These people are already scared.”

“Sorry ma’am.”

‘Ma’am’ he said. Stacey could never get use to being called ma’am. Even in his extreme excitement, the officer could sense her displeasure. He leaned over looking at her name tag. Only medical personnel and the suits had name tags.

“You’re a doctor…It says Dr. Dr. Stacey Penski. Do I call you Dr. Stacey or Dr. Penski or maybe it’s just Stacey…

Stacey interrupted him, “Just call me Dr. Penski.” Something told her he had a lot more variations to go through before he would decide to stop. She ran her hands across her face, slightly pinching her cheeks, then brushing her hair out of her eyes. Her hair showed her age more than her skin did. A once vibrant shade of red now faded to a murky shade of orange. It had also thinned quite a bit over the years. Her husband said it was part of getting older; she knew it was because of stress.

She caught Bonnie’s attention, who was on the other side of the tent, and motioned for her to come over. They often worked together on these jobs. Bonnie was younger and much smarter then her good looks and enhanced 36 DD’s led on.