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"Well, I don't knoooooooow...."
I began to finger my anorexic wallet, with a please-please-please look on my face.
"O.K.," he finally said. "It will be 150 American dollars."
You could hear me swallow in Tijuana. I dug it out, stuck it in his hand and said, "Thank you, Officer Sir." I had $50 left, enough for breakfast and a cab to the airport in the morning. I started to put the Jeep in gear.
"And another $50 for the red light," he said.
I paid it.
I only bring this up to show you how renewing to the spirit the Mexican Pacific can be. You can fork over 200 zops in bribes and still not feel cheated.
Besides, I know how I can write the $200 off on my expense account.
Hotel laundry service.