by Miles Rost
Apparently, it had been three days since I last saw consciousness.
Here’s what I remember so far. I was staying at a friend of mine’s place in Sylmar, waiting for word back from a prospective client for a job in imports and exports. They dealt with Vietnam, Cambodia, and Thailand explicitly, and since I knew how to speak Vietnamese and Thai, I figured I would have an in. I sit down in front of the TV and watch an episode of The People’s Court, then a rerun of NCIS. I chugged down a glass of freshly made iced tea that my host had made before he left for work. I start feeling really good, and decide that it’s nice enough to take a nap.
When I woke up, three days later, I heard the chatter from a small transistor radio in my room. I tried listening hard, but I couldn’t understand just what the DJ was saying. I blinked for a few moments to get my bearings, and see if it was morning or night. To my surprise, in the room there were no windows. Now, understand something, this room was about as big as a closet in an average apartment. So, I get up and slowly walk to the door.
I opened up the door and I looked at the room. There was a light on, but it was one bulb. It was pretty dark, and kinda warm in there. I looked on the table and saw a microphone, a control board, and a couple of CD players. I also saw my laptop next to the microphone. It was plugged in and ready to go, though I noticed that all my chat programs on there were gone.
I went to the refrigerator, but I saw there was nothing there except water and a couple bottles of Corona. Greeeeeat, just what I didn’t need. Alcohol. I went over to the main door and tried to open it. Clearly, it was bolted shut and was made of a strong metal that reminded me of the inside of an Abrams tank.
Suddenly, the small door slot opened and a plate full of meat, beans, and rice came through the door. A note was next to it. So I grabbed it up, walked over to another table next to the broadcast table, and proceeded to read the note.
Enjoy your food. Your show starts in 30 minutes. Clock is on the wall and is atomic-based.
– your employer.
Okay, that’s nice. Well, let’s take a look at what I got. Hmmm…looked like kebabs, beans, and rice. So I took a bite of kebab. It actually tasted good…for about 5 seconds, then it took a turn towards the very chewy and the not-so-palatable. Instead, I ate the beans and rice and kept the plate of meat nearby for something to snack on while I did some sort of broadcasting show.
Only after putting on the headphones and turning on the mic did a window finally open. And I was shocked by what I saw. I was on the 12th floor of a building overlooking what could only be described as the brown-haired and dirty stepchild of the City of San Diego. With looking out that window, looking down at the meat, and the phone that was now ringing via a red signal, I finally realized that I was the living epitome of a major song:
I found I was in Tijuana
Eating barbequed ignuana
I take requests on the telephone
I’m on a wavelength far from home
God, help me now. I’m on-a Mexican Radio.