Kicks Like a Mule

The Linger Loco!

Chapter 6: Kicks Like a Mule

I open my eyes to the breathtaking view of an open road

cutting across a dry desert. Cactus plants stand tall at the

roadside and vultures glide on the warm thermals in

search of road kill. The sun burns red as it appears over the

horizon and illuminates the dry rocks. We make a pit stop

in a town called La Rioja, and I jump off the bus for a few

minutes and stretch my aching legs. It’s intensely hot on

the bus platform, and I notice many of the people climbing

aboard are deeply tanned. Some look more indigenous

than the European faces we had seen in Cordoba, Mendoza

and Buenos Aires, and I feel excited by the sensation of

heading deeper inside this magnificent country.

Arriving at the main bus terminal in Salta in the early

afternoon, we freshen up in the public toilets and head out

into the street. Observing a string of cable cars gliding up to

the top of a hill covered in lush green vegetation, we follow

Avenue San Martin alongside the large Parque San Martin

and arrive in a rather raw commercial district of the city.

Crossing a busy main road we eventually stumble across

the Hotel Munay. The guy behind reception is a quiet man

with grey hair and half moon spectacles. He quietly asks

for our passports and slides a key across the wooden

reception desk. Thanking him we head up to our room on

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the third floor. The hotel appears to have been recently

decorated and the room is spotlessly clean with an ensuite

bathroom. Chris immediately opens the shutters and

sits down on a chair in the corner of the room.

Feeling peckish and in need of a beer, we freshen up and

head back out into the bustling street where we find an

interesting little bar on the corner called Papa Panchos.

Perched on stools that look out onto the street, a cute waitress

in a pair of tightly fitting jeans and a red baseball cap

skips over to the table and takes our order. She looks

absolutely stunning with shiny black hair and petite features.

Her arms are delicately thin and her skin is a rich

bronze colour. She seems amused by our appalling

Spanish and disappears with our order. After a couple of

beers and a messy burger stuffed full of beef, egg, cheese

and ham, we stroll down a main pedestrian street and

watch a blind musician performing live on a keyboard to

an enthusiastic, smiley crowd. A fat clown shaped like a

beach ball chases an excited toddler around a rubbish bin,

and a middle-aged couple dance together in the street.

There’s a Carnival atmosphere in the air, and hailing a cab

we race through the city streets for ten minutes and arrive

in Balcarce – the bar district.

The main street is lined with colourful drinking holes

and, spying a bar on the corner with a queue of girls outside,

we decide to check it out. Stepping inside, we head

towards the surly looking girl working behind the bar and

order a couple of cocktails. Tables of smartly dressed

Argentineans fill the large room and a live band plays

national rock music on the stage.

‘This place is so cool,’ Chris grins, scanning the dance

floor.

‘Yeah, it feels like we’re at a wedding.’

‘Do you think we look a bit scruffy? Everyone’s got smart

shirts on and shoes.’

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I glance down at my jeans and at Chris’s T-shirt with

‘Free as a pissing bird’ written across the front.

‘Hmm, maybe a bit,’ I nod.

Downing our sweet tasting cocktails we decide to have

another, and order an exciting concoction that has something

to do with fire. Much to our surprise the girl making

the drinks does indeed set fire to some alcohol in a metal

cocktail shaker, and pours a variety of different spirits over

the flames. She squeals as the flames leap high into the air,

and giving it a good shake she pours the liquid into a glass.

It remains on fire and, unsure what to do, I quickly extinguish

the blue flame by pressing a beer mat over the rim.

The girl stands back with her hands on her hips and

watches Chris’s rather over the top reaction.

‘Wow!’ he grins, his eyeballs rolling around inside their

sockets. ‘Now that’s what I call a cocktail!’

The liquid is piping hot, and it packs a punch that nearly

strikes me to the ground. Chris laughs and the band on the

stage up-tempo. Spinning around on our stools, we watch

the large breasted woman in a black evening dress belt out

a catchy number that makes all the couples leap up from

their tables and hit the dance floor. Suddenly, an attractive

girl with curly hair, who is sitting further along the bar,

slides off her stool and approaches Chris. She hands him

a piece of paper and we both look in amazement, as she

spins around and wiggles her ass back to her stool. Chris’s

face is priceless.

‘Fucking hell, she just gave me her mobile number!’ he

yells, waving the piece of paper in the air.

‘You lucky bastard, how did you manage that? She’s

really fit.’

He shrugs. ‘I have absolutely no idea. I didn’t even know

she was there.’

‘Go over and talk to her.’

‘I can’t.’

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‘Why not?’

‘Because my Spanish is shit.’

‘OK, ask her to dance.’

‘I can’t dance, either,’ he replies helplessly. ‘I’ve got two

left feet and absolutely no co-ordination. I may as well be

mute and in a friggin wheelchair.’

‘Just kiss her, then, you dumb ass – anything!’

Chris shifts uncomfortably on his barstool, so I decide to

leave him to do things his own way. I mean, what’s the

fuss? It’s only a pretty girl with a fantastic body. Seconds

later, I notice a guy return to the seat next to her. It seems

pretty clear they’re together, and much to Chris’s disappointment

they start kissing passionately on the lips.

‘What the fuck, she’s got a boyfriend!’ he cries. ‘Why

would she give me her mobile number if she’s got a

boyfriend?’

‘Maybe she wants you to join them for a spit roast?’

Chris narrows his eyes. ‘Don’t be a prick, it’s got nothing

to do with food, it’s…oh, right. Sod that!’

* * *

Balcarce is booming. The pavement cafés and bars are

bursting at the seams, and the atmosphere in the air is

electric. I reach inside my back pocket and pull out the

napkin with the girl’s mobile number on it. I look at her

curly handwriting, and sigh. I consider throwing it in the

bin, but instead jab it back inside my pocket for safekeeping

and also in case I’m in a desperate situation and need

something to wipe my ass with.

We cruise along the busy street and spy a rock bar. Si’s

eyes light up and, like a man possessed, he instinctively

turns on his heels and heads straight for the door. The

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Rolling Stone’s classic ‘Jumping Jack Flash’ fills the joint

as we make our way inside. The lively venue is rammed

with young fashionable people, and a big screen near to

the bar displays Mick Jagger mincing around the stage

while Keith Richards plays the guitar and smokes a cigarette

from the corner of his mouth. Making a beeline for

the crowded bar, I struggle to grab the attention of the bartender

over the heads of the people sat on stools in front of

us. This is a serious obstacle – an obstacle you don’t need

when you’re gagging for a Johnnie Walker Black. Elbowing

everyone off their stools seems to be the only answer, but

I hold myself back and decide to wedge myself between a

couple instead. This tactical manoeuvre is a success, and I

finally order the drinks and smile apologetically to them

as I wiggle myself away from the bar. They don’t look very

happy, but it’s instantly forgotten when they return to their

heavy petting. I weave over to Si who’s stood at a table by

the big screen.

‘The Stones are amazing!’ he cries, taking his drink. ‘I’d

sell a fucking kidney on ebay to see these old boys in

action.’

‘Damn right,’ I smile. ‘I’d sell my cock and balls!’

Si frowns, and shakes his head. ‘No you wouldn’t.’

‘No, you’re right, I wouldn’t.’

‘Anyway, who’d buy them?’

‘You’d be surprised, there’re some right weirdoes out

there. Sick people who would love to get their hands on

my privates.’

‘Who exactly?’

‘Sick people like murderers, rapists and paedophiles.

They’re walking the same streets as us. They’re using the

same petrol stations and public toilets. They drink in the

same friggin pubs, for crying out loud! These people live

with us in society, I’m telling ya! It could be old Mr Jones

from number 74, it could be the baker, the butcher, the

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candlestick maker or Sheila from the opticians, the head

chef down your local village pub, the teacher, the grocery

boy, the celebrity, the local policeman and even the church

vicar.’

Si looks at me disapprovingly, like I’ve just shaved his

mullet off with a pair of sheep shears and knitted a jumper

out of it.

‘Yeah, all right, chill out!’ he cries.

‘Sorry, I read a free copy of The Daily Mail on the flight

over here. It’s infected my mind with worry and paranoia.’

‘That’s nothing new, then.’

‘Piss off!’

‘Sorry, but you know damn well never to read that newspaper.’

‘I know, I know. It’s also made me worry about interest

rates rising in the UK, affecting house prices and mortgage

rates, and then there’s my pension!’

‘You haven’t got a pension.’

‘Haven’t I?’

‘No.’

I breathe out a sigh of relief. ‘Thank god for that.’

‘Chris, shut up for a second and let’s discuss the serious

matter at hand.’

‘What serious matter?’

‘How much you would actually sell your cock and balls

for on ebay?’

‘Oh right, yeah…uh, three grand,’ I smile, snatching a figure

out of the air.

Si laughs. ‘Three grand, you’re joking? You’d actually

auction your cock and balls for only three grand?’

‘Of course, that’s shit loads.’

‘No it’s not.’

‘Yes it is. It’s three round-the-world plane tickets.’

‘You’re a fucking loser. I’d do it for a cool million.

Imagine the beautiful girls you’d shag in your penthouse

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suite with a cool million?’

We both look down at our crotches, and frown.

‘Might be a tad difficult,’ I smile.

We watch the big screen for a while. Keith, Ronnie and

Charlie are still strumming and drumming away, while

Mick is prancing around the stage with his mouth wide

open and singing the classic ‘Brown Sugar’. Someone taps

us both on the shoulder and spinning around we see a

young guy stood in front of us with spiky brown hair and

braces on his teeth.

‘My name is Leo!’ he cries, shaking our hands. ‘I love

rock ‘n’ roll! Where are you from?’

‘England,’ I reply, impressed by this guy’s confidence

and happy-go-lucky attitude.

He beams and points at the big screen. ‘England and The

Stones…I love The Stones! Welcome to Salta!’

‘Gracias,’ I reply.

‘Deeeeee nada!’ Leo cries, jumping onto a stool. ‘My

friends here later, so OK if I talk you and practice English?’

‘Sure,’ Si nods, ‘no problem.’

‘You like make sex with girls? I have four.’

‘Four?’ I cry, sounding impressed.

‘Yes, I in Salta for vacation, but go college in Tucumán -

many girls in Tucumán. You go?’

‘Maybe on our way back,’ I smile.

Leo frowns. ‘Por que? Tucumán is good. I have fun in

Tucumán. The girls like my asses!’

‘Hey Leo, do you want a drink?’

‘No please, I before drink beer in house.’

‘Are you sure? I’m going to the bar. What you having?’

‘OK, I drink beer.’

I walk over to the bar, and see the couple from before

obstructing the traffic. I decide not to disturb them this

time and take a detour to the left and step in between two

guys instead. I get the drinks and race back to the table.

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‘You’re not going to fucking believe this!’ Si cries, looking

extremely excited.

‘Why, what’s happened?’

‘Leo just told me The Stones are playing on Copacabana

Beach in Rio, and guess what?’

‘What?’

‘It’s free! They’re doing a free concert as part of their

Bigger Bang Tour.’

‘You’re kidding me?’

‘Nope, I’m being deadly serious.’

I’m so excited by the news my glass of whisky nearly

slips through my fingers and smashes on the floor. ‘The

Rolling Stones are playing live on the beach in Rio-fuckingde-

Janeiro!’

‘Yes, we have to go!’ Si yells. ‘It’s free, we’d be mad not

to.’

I nod vigorously. ‘Absolutely, it could be the last chance

to see them before they drop dead.’

We all raise our glasses and celebrate a great evening.

Leo sees his friends and quickly introduces them to us. It’s

like a scene from the movie Lock Stock. All of the guys are

smartly dressed and appear to be as cool as a cucumber. A

pretty girl runs over and kisses the tanned ringleader on

the lips. He doesn’t look shocked. He just smiles, slaps her

ass and continues to drink. Despite the great music playing

in the bar we’re not interested in fighting around barstools

for another beverage, so we drink up and make for the exit.

Leo and his friends recommend a nightclub next door

called Chaos. The queue is huge, but Leo encourages us to

be patient as tonight is supposed to be kicking. We finally

reach the door and a big bouncer hands us all a small

white card.

‘It for your drinks and entrance,’ Leo smiles. ‘Don’t lose,

OK!’

Entering the club to loud electronic music, Leo weaves

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his way through the packed crowd and waves us over to

the bar. We fight to hand over our cards to the barman; it

really is hard work trying to get a drink around here. A

relaxed country pub with a big open fire really interests

me at this moment in time. It’s a sign of getting old, but I

don’t give a fuck. A young kid knocks into my shoulder

and shouts to his friend beside me. He shouts right in my

ear and I’m close to slapping him around the back of the

head. Another kid bumps into me from the left and a girl

knocks past me on the right. It’s so hot in here! Where’s the

air-con? I order a beer and hand my white card over to a

barman. He stamps it and passes it back. Grabbing my beer

I push away from the bar and see Leo and Si waving at me

from across the club. I force a smile and wave back and try

not to look grumpy, as I nudge my way over to the guys

who seem to think setting up base miles from the bar is a

genius idea. It takes me ages to squeeze through the crowd

of young excited clubbers. I’m sweating like a pig by the

time I reach them.

‘Where you go?’ Leo shouts over the music.

‘Trying to buy a fucking drink,’ I snap.

Leo laughs. ‘You not like it here?’

‘I do like it here, it’s great!’

I force another smile and take a deep breath as a kid

bashes into my shoulder.

‘You don’t dance?’

‘Later!’ I smile, gritting my teeth.

‘I find you girl,’ Leo nods.

He disappears up a flight of stairs.

‘Hey, you OK?’ Si cries.

‘Yes, for fuck’s sake, I’m fine!’

‘What’s the matter with you?’

‘Nothing is the matter. I’m sorry, it’s just so hot and

crowded in here. Where are the exits in this place?’

Si frowns. ‘Why?’

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‘I’m sure this place is breaking the health and safety regulations

with the amount of people in a venue of this size.

They’re overcrowding!’

‘Everyone’s back for the holidays.’

‘Well, if there’s a fire we’re well and truly fried.’

‘Don’t worry.’

‘What?’

‘I said, don’t worry!’

‘Jesus, the music is so loud in here. I might have a word

with the disc jockey and get him to turn the volume down

a tad. I can’t hear myself think.’

‘Chris, please tell me you’re joking.’

‘Of course I am.’

Leo reappears and waves us up the stairs. It’s crazy to

even attempt climbing up them, but we stupidly push forward

and somehow make it the top. I can hardly see my

hands in front of me as colourful beams of light zigzag

across the crowd. Leo rocks up with a girl called Veronica,

and I can just about see her angelic features in the darkness.

The music is too loud to talk, which is good because

she doesn’t speak English. She grabs my head and starts

kissing me on the lips. This is fantastic! Her kissing style

needs a bit of work, but I’m impressed by her forwardness

and soft lips. I haven’t kissed like this for ages, well, not

since I was a kid at a roller disco.

We kiss for what seems like hours and hours, and it’s not

until I open my eyes and stop kissing, that I realise the

lights are on and half the people on the dance floor have

left the building. I peer down and see a cute angel face

looking up at me. Leo appears from nowhere and slaps a

hand on my shoulder.

‘Your brother look for you,’ he smiles.

‘Thanks, Leo.’

‘You have good night, Chris?’

‘Yeah, it’s been fun.’

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Si rocks up beside me and nods a hello to Veronica. She

smiles sweetly and drops her gaze.

‘You’ve been busy,’ he smirks.

‘Tell me about it. We’ve been kissing all night, literally

non-stop. I know the inside of her mouth better than her

shagging dentist does.’

‘Hey, guess how old she is?’ Si winks.

‘Why?’

‘Have a guess.’

‘I don’t know, twenty two?’

‘Nope.’

‘Twenty three?’

‘Nope.’

‘What is this fucking quiz time? I don’t know. In fact, I

don’t care.’

‘Try going down.’

‘Down?’

‘Yep.’

‘She must be twenty one.’

‘Nope.’

I start to feel incredibly hot. ‘Twenty?’

‘Nope.’

‘She can’t be younger than twenty!’

Si nods. ‘Yes she can.’

‘What do you mean “yes she can”?’

Leo pops his head over Veronica’s shoulder. ‘She seventeen!’

he cries.

I look at the girl and then turn to Leo. ‘You what?’

‘It’s true, she’s seventeen,’ Si laughs.

‘LEO!’ I shout. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’

He frowns. ‘Que pasa?’

‘She’s only seventeen!’

‘Yes, Veronica is my friend’s cousin.’

‘I’m thirty, dude! I’m nearly old enough to be her father.’

‘You perv,’ Si teases, swaying on his feet.

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‘Fuck you! How was I supposed to know? I wouldn’t

have kissed her if I’d known that.’

‘That’s what they all say.’

I explode with anger and shove Si quite hard. He stumbles

back and spills his drink on the floor. With a smile on

his face he hands Leo his beer.

‘Don’t do anything silly, bro, there are girls present.’

Leo stands back, excited by the promise of a brawl and

Si leaps into the air with a squeal and karate kicks me in

the chest. I fly backwards and slam hard against the wall.

It really hurts.

Leo dances around and waves his arms in the air. ‘He

kicks like a mule!’ he cries. ‘He kicks like a mule!’

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