Through the streets I wander.
An old gentleman wearing a soiled grey sweatshirt gives me the Peruvian wave to "come on over and sit a while". He pulls me into a dank hallway of a bar. His friend sits slouched in his chair, drool dripping from his chin, eyes peacefully glazed.
There is no one else around.
The gentleman pushes a glass soda bottle into my line of sight and slurs, "Whiskey". I can see the dark liquid tremble as the other man slams his head against the table, temporarily disturbed from his trance.
"Why not"?
If Anthropology has taught me anything its to embrace culture in all its forms. Especially when social drinking is involved.
I oblige.
A few pulls off the strong mix, shoot the shit and make my escape, ...after a few more of course.
"The sun is strong".
Time to make some grub and filly my empty belly.
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