I lost my temper with Raoul and family over their [again] loud Banda music. Bouncing the basketball wasn’t seeming to make much of an impression so I called him out on to the street (venga aca pendejo ) and then said over and over that I wanted to kick his ass.

I beat on his front door so long and so hard my fist was bleeding. And in the doing accidentally broke their front door window (which then translated into breaking, what I was told later, was 3 different laws).

He sensibly didn’t come out but called the police instead.

The police came (automatic rifles and all).

I would most definitely be in jail right now if it weren’t for Pancho’s intervention.

As it was I paid 700 pesos in damages and gave the entire neighborhood some excitement.

Luckily the neighbors like me.

(I guess they consider me to be a pretty nice guy when I am not beating on Raoul’s house)

PS – I am hoping that the post-script to this story is teeny, tiny small as I came to the opinion while living in Washington, DC that a gunshot wound was never any further than just a small misunderstanding away.

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