Last Mile

Last Year, The Last Time I Rode

Unfortunately the train took me into downtown Guadalajara. I may not know much about cattle ranches but I know they are not in the middle of a bustling city.
I needed to get to the outskirts of the city. Taxis in Mexcio are mostly two door Beetles, cute if you are a lady drive around LA, not for a kid who needs to get to outskirts of a city. What money I had I needed. I could not take a chance of getting robbed. I didn't have a gun yet, just a slight problem in the middle of nowhere.

Finding a few English-speaking wanna-be vaqueros shouldn't be hard, the real ones the ones I want ,need, could be a different story.
I found La Maestranza,a local bar know for it's traditional flair. Since it's traditional I figured that I had a good shot of finding some local rancho de la manos . Unlike the US, Mexico, or this bar, didn't check ID at the door, I didn't come to drink, I came for a job.

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This is when the fictional element comes in. I have no clue about ranch in Guadalajara . I know that it is one of the places that attracts tourists in Mexico.
The Spanish in this chapter is actual Spanish ( message me if you don't know what it mean, I had to Google Spanish lol)
For the ranch name that I made up, the bar, however, is a actual place.