So, Bill and I were trying to think what the fuck we should do. Yeah, we were on some blind leading the blind shit. I don't think a call to the cops ever came up. Never once entered our minds. Luckily, Enrique showed up.
Rick was like the king of the 301. The LION of the 301. Huge Mexi-mullet, tall and skinny with a cordless phone tucked in his back pocket and a pistol up his sleeve at all times. He had the big corner apartment on the top floor next to my pathetic studio. He did the maintenance, he kept the seriously shady motherfuckers off the premises (example: Crackhead Tony was okay, he had manners, but my neighbor, Joanne's thug son was not. Which is cool, that kid was NUTS), he worked on anyone's car, he cheated on his wife... Rick did it all. 301 style. I miss that fool. Rick always had that .25 pistol up his Dallas Cowyboys jacket. Just tucked up under the cuff. Easy access, baby.
Enrique snapped into action. Knocked on a few doors, got the Mexi-Posse together. Bill grabbed his 9mm beretta (not a settling thought). I kept a good grip on my beer. Rick said, "You in Mase?" Actually he called me "Maze" or "Mayeez," in his deep ass, goofy voice. If you're curious I do a kill impersonation of Rick. Back to the story, though. "You in Mayeez?" Moment of truth right? Bill, noticed my hesitation. He said, "Dah! Nothing's gonna happen," and punched me on the arm. Well, I was convinced. LET'S GET THOSE FUCKERS! FOR PABLO! POR OAXACA!
Just how are we gonna find him? Or his body (worst case scenario)? Or his attackers? I kept these questions to myself. I was on some soldier shit. No questions, just action. And malt liquor. ALWAYS malt liquor in those days.
As we were heading down to Enrique's car, Pablo pulled into the lot. Alive! Unhurt! Didn't matter. This was a blood feud, now. Oh yeah, it was ON! Plus, we knew where these fools were, now! Pablo kept his engine running and we went to load into Rick's bass-bumpin' Tempo. Bill, with his pistol tucked into his waist, pointing right at his dingus, called shotgun. I went to get in the back seat, but there was a girl there! NOT Rick's wife. I'll admit she was pretty: a mildly thick, light-skinned black woman. Even if she looked kinda good, she didn't look well. She woke up when I opened the door.
She looked up and said, "HGGhhdrrrdmmff." Whoa, honey. I was like, Hey, I recognize you! "Hey Rick, this is the chick I was telling you about. The one I saw sleeping in the stairwell." Rick was like, "Yeah, we were up all night, plus she been smokin crack all day." Meet Rick's new girlfriend! Good enough for me.
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