text: I live in Tucson, AZ. One day last week, I had nothing to do, so I drove down to Mexico to buy a new pair of boots. I’d been needing some for a while, and the peso had recently taken a dip, so it seemed like an opportune time. I parked in Nogales, AZ, about a quarter mile from the border. As luck would have it, there was a dollar bill on the ground right by my car. “Even better than free parking!” I thought, as I put on my mask and walked into Mexico. Apparently the other gringos in Southern Arizona hadn’t gotten the memo that the governor of Sonora had opened their border crossings again, because I was one of the only people walking across, other than an older fellow in front of me, who made a beeline for the dentist’s office once we were through the gate. I wasn’t planning to stay long, so I headed right to the western wear store I had in mind, found some nice looking, full grain, brown leather boots for 1350 pesos, and offered 1200. The guy agreed immediately, making me think I should have offered less, but it was too late and I was already getting a pretty good deal. I pulled out my card, paid, and that was that. Nogales, Sonora, is cooler than Tucson, but it was still a warm day and I was thirsty, so on the way back to America, I stepped into a drugstore with a drink fridge by the counter and grabbed a small bottle of Coke and a liter of water. “Veinte pesos,” said the lady. I hadn’t changed any cash, as I’d been planning to just use my card for the boots, so I pulled the lucky dollar out of my pocket and asked “¿Se acepta un dólar?” She agreed, I handed her the dollar, and that was that. At this point, I figured I’d get ahead of the inevitable effect of a water and Coke, and asked if there was a bathroom I could use. She pointed me next door. Next door was a narrow store front that was completely empty except for two guys sitting on plastic chairs and an ice cream freezer with a paper sign that read, “paletas 10 & 15.” Using my best frase común from the days of Spanish 1, I inquired as to the location of the bathroom. One of them pointed behind himself while the other said, “Al fondo.” All the way back. The bathroom was exactly what one might expect in an empty storefront in Mexico staffed by two middle-aged men selling ice cream bars. It worked, though. As I walked out, I thanked them, but the man who had pointed said, “son diez pesos.” Naturally, I had forgotten that there are no free bathrooms in Nogales, except for those in restaurants reserved for paying customers only. However, I did not have 10 pesos, and in fact had no cash on me besides a 5 dollar bill. So I asked if he could make change. “No.” I wasn’t about to pay $5 for a thoroughly lackluster bathroom experience. I also didn’t want to irritate these guys by... well what would one call that? Obviously not a dine and dash. Tinkle and trot? No thanks. A sudden thought occurred to me, though. “No tengo monedas, pero ¿quieres una Coca-Cola?” I don’t have any change, but would you like a Coca-Cola? He smiled and held out his hand. I took the Coke from my bag, paid, and that was that.