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Looking back now, even I think my plan was nothing short of a pipe dream, wishful thinking at best, an ad hoc solution to a situation that is known for making grown men cry. Figuratively speaking, I was between a rock and a hard place in the worst kind of way. Literally, I was locked in a cage, and the only exit was to cross the Mexican border due south and spend the rest of my life in a country commonly referred to as the drug cartel capital of the world.
The title of drug cartel capital of the world is, of course, hyperbole. However, things like assassinations, kidnappings, beheadings, and news flashes of quiet little cities being ripped to shreds from stray bullets that were meant to eliminate the competition, as rivaling drug cartels battle it out in broad daylight in a barrage of turf wars that seem to appear out of nowhere, this is reality for the estimated 110 million people living below our southern border.
Now would probably be a good time to point out a few extenuating circumstances like the fact that I didn't speak Spanish, I had less than $1,000 to my name, absolutely no papers and no form of identification whatsoever, and, last but not least, my name would soon be added to the federal marshal's list of most wanted criminals. I would be at the very bottom of the list but still on it.
For the life of me, I still don't understand why my plan sounded like a good idea back then, and as far as how I mustered up the courage to set this plan into motion is still a mystery.
