THE MAYOR

We went in search of the truth. Our odyssey downtown began at the Palm Lounge, took us to the Sportsman Club and the Barrel House, found us in Market Square stopping at La Movida and El Capitan Bar, and led us to the Half Moon Saloon where we pondered our findings over cold beers.

Is the mayor evil? We sought answers to that question. We required that our volunteers reply while under the influence of alcohol. It is the only serum we trust.

The Palm Lounge has been a gathering place for liberal thinkers. The opinion was unanimous: The mayor is for sale. Finding someone to say a good word about him was more quixotic than a shrimper discovering a mermaid in the gulf.

The Sportsman Club and the Barrel House have anchored their locales since ancient times. Their customers can talk with authority about the past. There was general agreement the mayor was the product of mandrake roots. 

"It is a bitter fruit he offers," said an old drunk.

With the exception of Don Pedro and Maclovio O'Malley, Brownsville's intelligentsia don't gather at the Market Square cantinas. It's the prostitutes and the transvestites who feel more at home at La Movida and El Capitan Bar.

"The mayor mama verga!" shouted a regular at La Movida.

"The mayor is a whore!" added a streetwalker.

"The mayor huele de mierda!" lisped a guy with big tits at El Capitan Bar.

The conversation was more sedate at the Half Moon Saloon. The Doc Scully Blues Band was practicing before a large happy hour audience. "Delta" Dave Handelman was back batting second, pushing Doc into scoring position.

"Everybody knows my opinion about the mayor," said Doc. "He sucks the big one. How is it that this greedy ignoramus thrives in our town? Is our community that corrupt? If I saw a turd walking down Washington, you would have a hard time convincing me that it wasn't the mayor."