I do apologise to you, dear readers, for not having written in so long. Given that I’m on the run from the law, and that I’m so old (114), you may be forgiven for becoming worried each time I take a break from writing. Indeed, the reality is that at any time I could find myself in jail, and being charged for multiple murders, or I could be dead from old age. Either way I’d be unable to continue this web-log.
But no, I’m far from dead, and far from being in jail.
You’ll recall from a previous posting that I and my three men, Mikey Squeaky and Freddy, *had crossed into Mexico*. It was an irrevocable step, for it’s unlikely we’ll be able again to return to America as long as the police there are looking for us. Settling into life in a new country always takes inordinate time even in the best of circumstances. So, considering that the lot of me and my three men – Mikey Squeaky and Freddy – couldn’t be more fraught if you tried, you’ll understand why you haven’t heard from me in a while.
Our first problem was Pesos, for we had none. Fortunately, just a few miles beyond the border was a small bank which I saw in a little town which I was driving our SUV through. Being now proficient in bank-robbing, we managed relatively easily to rob the bank of about one million Pesos – worth about $85,000. This would be quite small pickings from robbing a bank in an American town. But remember, this was a small Mexican bank in a little Mexican town, and that in little Mexican towns, the Peso goes a long way – much further than the dollar equivalent in an American town, whether little or big.
I’ll not go into details about how we robbed this bank because I’ve already described how *we robbed one bank* in America. I would find it boring to have to go into detail about each bank we rob. I feel that this would bore you too. I mean, if your job is fixing cars, and you keep a blog about what’s going on in your life, would you go into details about what you do in fixing each car you fix? Thought not.
You may also be asking yourself why we would need all those Pesos, because nowadays everyone pays for things through a credit card or bank debit card, and surely I and my three men would have credit cards and debit cards. Well, as I’ve described in previous postings, which you’ve probably forgotten, when you’re on the run from the police, using credit and debit cards betrays where you are, and it would be certain that the police, not just in America, but outside America too, like in Mexico, would have told the banks to tell them, the police, if charges are made against our credit and debit cards.
Since everyone today uses credit and debit cards, if you pay for things in cash, you make people suspicious. Being made to feel a criminal just because I wish to pay for things in cash, I find particularly outrageous, since for most of my 114 years there were no such things as credit and debit cards. You whipper-snappers of 45 or 50 must be laughing as you read this, because all your lives there have been credit and debit cards, and you’ve therefore hardly ever used real money to buy things.
But, let me tell you, when I was a young man in pre-First World War England, and even up to the Second World War and after, when I was already middle-aged, no-one used credit cards because they hadn’t been invented. I must have been 75 when I got my first credit card, and it felt strange using it to pay for my purchases. I still have never quite got used to them. So, to pay for everything using real money feels to me entirely natural.
In our first few days in Mexico I and my men were especially watchful each time we stayed in hotels after paying for the room in real Pesos. But nothing happened, no doubt because in Mexico, as I discovered, lots of people still pay in real Pesos for their things. Knowing this, I felt freer in Mexico than I ever felt in America – the land not only of the Brave, but of the Free.