For the past year, The Boy has lived the life of a nomad, working as a field auditor for power and communications companies. He isn’t home to visit often, but when he’s in town we’ve adopted a new tradition – Bad Juan margaritas at the local TexMex dive.
These are not just any margaritas. Not the frozen girlie variety sold in chain restaurants. Not the syrupy-sweet stuff that bachelorettes drink to excess in Vegas. They are both terrifying and magical in their potency – bringing inexplicable cheerfulness when consumed responsibly. And by “responsibly”, i mean “less than three”, as the restaurant generally won’t serve any individual patron more than three of these things*.
But what fun is that?
We continued the tradition on his last visit. Bashing tortilla chips and sipping the neon-green power-punch, The Boy talked about the frustrations of life on the road. Ten to twelve-hour days. The work is repetitive enough to be mind-numbing, but still requires just enough intellectual effort to prevent him from completely zoning out. He doesn’t
want to do this forever, but isn’t quite sure what’s next.
daisyfae: In the meantime, you’re not stuck behind a desk. The pay and benefits are good.
The Boy: True. But how much money do I need? If you have enough, it loses meaning.
daisyfae: Then reframe it into terms that DO have meaning! How many Bad Juans do you earn an hour?
The Boy: I like the way you’re thinking here…
We did some basic math. At $7.00 per drink – accounting for overtime, taxes and other adjustments to income – he earns more than enough to get really, really shit-faced drunk.
Motivation. We haz it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This month, The Boy is working in Florida, so it’s a bit more difficult for him to visit for the weekend. He uses my place as his permanent mailing address. Usually, i just pile his mail up in a basket on his desk, but the letter from his auto insurance agent was likely a bill. i realized last weekend that he wouldn’t be home before the due date, so i
paid it. Sent him a text afterwards…
daisyfae: Just paid your car insurance – $392. We can settle up next time you’re in town!
The Boy: Thanks! If you take payment in Bad Juans, it’s exactly 56.
daisyfae: That would more than kill me. Nice try. Cash or check preferred.
The Boy: Shekels it is!
image found here
* unless you time your visit to coincide with a shift change, when you can sometimes scam a fourth one…