P’s a little drunk — he’s entered the phase of enjoying being drunk. He tries to rouse himself into the moment. Did he like it? Sure. Why not? Luís hiccups, giggles drunkenly, then rises in turn. After a few minutes, Tamy comes back with fresh bottles. ‘Where’s Luís?’ Says P, starting up from his drunkenness, ‘I think he went to the bathroom.’ She takes this with a roll of the shoulders and a sigh. ‘Ay dios.’ She shakes her head: ‘He didn’t go to the bathroom.’ ‘Where did he go then?’ ‘They have back rooms here,’ she says. ‘Booths. Private dances.’ She shakes her head and sighs: ‘Ustedes los machos y su desmadre...’ It dawns on P then that this statement is meant to include him. He laughs. ‘So I’m a macho?’ ‘Pues claro,’ says Tamy. ‘You’re a man aren’t you? Well, all men are machos. And all machos are pitiful.’ ‘Pitiful?’ ‘The only thing they think about is where to stick it, the faster the better...’ Luís hobbles back to the table. Even in the dark, he looks shabby, hanging his head — he looks defeated. Says Tamy: ‘Qué pasó, don Luís?’ Luís starts to cry. Tamy throws some money on the table then gets up, reaches an arm about him, escorts him out — P has no choice but to follow behind. On the dusty sidewalk, Tamy holds Luís by the side as he throws up. He takes gulps of air, mutters fast and low, P can’t follow. ‘Ya,’ says Tamy, standing him up against the wall and wiping his mouth clean. ‘Ya. Vamos.’ On the way to the car they cross a beer stand and get some bottled water. Tamy helps Luís into the back of her bug, where he curls up and passes out. She and P get in from the front. ‘What happened?’
78 | B. Pelcz