……Where the Deer & the ‘Burquenos Play

It’s been said that a mariner can’t resist the call of the sea. For it’s the sea that rocks him in her salty arms and thus he knows the endless immensity of her love towards him.* (plagiarized). Having been born & conceived on the coast and having spent a good portion of my life on the water, I should fit this description. But the truth is I love it out here in New Mexico.  

"Watermelon" Mountain

Home to the world’s most famous chemistry teacher (Walter White), Albuquerque seems as foreign as any land I’ve encountered. Spread across the mile-high Rio Grande Rift Valley, it nestles against the towering peaks of the Sandia Mountains. This is where the quirkiness begins. “Sandia” is Spanish for watermelon. How someone named a desert mountain range after a water-hungry fruit is anyone’s guess. “Albuquerque” on the other hand, translates from Latin as “white oak”. I don’t see any of those around here either. My personal theory is the name comes from the Zuni word “Ałbiyahnanne“, which means “Hey, nobody’s perfect”. 
The offer of $9/hr. + a small commission lured me here barely a year ago. (I was never good at math.) This time for a forlorn car rental outfit called “Payless”. (Who after hearing of my runaway jeep experience in St. Thomas, wisely refused to allow me to drive their vehicles or even rent them.) The only accurate thing about their moniker was made painfully aware each payday. Otherwise, we dutifully followed the directives from the regional office by padding every contract and selling “discounted” fuel at a dollar over the normal rate. Did I mention their office is in Las Vegas?
In spite of tight roping across these ethical minefields, I became their top salesperson, possibly because the customers thought I’d lost the arm I kept hidden behind my back with my fingers crossed. 
Last July I broke all existing commission sales records. When I was called into the back office I expected a medal. Instead I was told by an irate VP that the verbiage I was using was inconsistent with the verbiage everyone else was being taught (who were making half the commission I was). When I suggested they revise their marketing, I was immediately fired. (Thus allowing me more time to trek among the mountain cacti in search of watermelons.) Hey, it’s Albuquerque.

Outside of these corporate shills, most people here are friendly, the adobe architecture enthralling, the food fabulous. And the ‘burquenos drive really cool cars. 
The police however resemble their cousins south of the Rio Grande border. Currently under investigation by the Federal Department of Justice for excessive use of force, they appear to have acquired the nasty habit of using the local citizenry for target practice. A woman’s son was shot seven times by local law enforcement personnel inside of her own home. The police claimed self-defense, ignoring the fact that the lad didn’t own a gun. Another city dweller was wanted by the authorities. When they showed up at his house with a warrant, he surrendered. They shot him as he walked out of his door unarmed. Realizing their mistake, they shot him four more times as he lay dying in his driveway. What can one say but “Ałbiyahnanne“? 
But if one treads carefully here, it’s quite enjoyable. Really.

No matter, it’s time for me to rejoin the floating damsel that anxiously awaits in the Dominican Republic for her next voyage. With a heavy heart and a suitcase full of boat parts, I’ll be back onboard in a fortnight. This quirky town will have to get on without me.