Ellos son Gringos! Ellos tienen un mapa!

4 02 2006

Earlier this evening, myself, Corinne, Jatt and Manet were returning from Palo Alto after having spent several hours wandering around IKEA filling up those wonderful 4 wheel independent suspension shopping carts with consumer goods. The 152 was closed at I-5 due to a HazMat spill that happened 17 hours earlier that day. We ended up having to take I-5 south to Firebaugh, rather then 152 east to Chowchilla. If you live around here, you know what we mean, if you don’t, I’m not going to explain all that. Lets just say we had to take a different route home that involved to much “middle-of-nowhere-ness.”

In Firebaugh, the fog was so bad that we couldn’t figure out which way to go, as there are no real signs to point us in the right direction. We stopped at a gas station to figure out where to go. By the way, I was driving a U-HAUL full of IKEA goods, Jatt was driving my car, and Corinne and Manet were in the Vue.

We decided that we need to go south, and as we were leaving we were approached by one of the Mexican families that was also lost in the fog and more or less stranded at the gas station. They asked if they could follow us to Fresno, because they would at least know where to go from there. Of course, we told those wetbacks to find their own route. Not really, we had one of them among our own group, so we had to help.

The family that asked us was a mother, father, and a few kids. They were to follow us, and as far as we knew, that was it. When we actually left the gas station, there were at least 3 other cars full of Mexicans following us, one big caravan traveling through the fog. Somehow they knew that we knew where we were going. Apparently we were the only ones with a map.

I made the comment that we had become the Mexican version of Moses, leading our people out of Firebaugh through the parting fog.

It was funny, believe me.

What I want to know is, how did all these Mexicans become stranded in Firebaugh? They must of gotten there, why couldnt they find their way out? Our excuse was that we were passing through and had never been that way before. Surely not every car full o’Mexicans was coming from Palo Alto like we were. One of life’s many mysteries I suppose.




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