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</div></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: left"><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">If going door to door to hand out advertising for his family's restaurant, <i>Picaduras,</i> was a crime, Gabriel Alcantara would have preferred to be warned ahead of time. If he known, Gabriel probably would not have been led off by the El Paso County Police in handcuffs. Gabriel was out performing a simple marketing task to promote the business, and encourage people to try out authentic Mexican cuisine, and he was attaching the ads together with the coupons when he was stopped by the cops. In fact, the only reason Gabriel was arrested was because a couple of gringos had reported a suspicious person hanging out on the sidewalk in their neighborhood. <br/>
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He heard them speaking loudly and pointing in his direction as the cops began questioning his reasons for being in the vicinity. Since he was accused of attempting to burglarize their next door neighbor's home, Gabriel was placed in a police cruiser and taken down to headquarters where he was being held on suspicion of breaking and entering only. Gabriel asked for a reason why he was being arrested, because he didn't have any tools in which to break in to someone's house--just rubber bands, plastic bags, restaurant advertisements and a stack of coupons that would allow the diners $5.00 off a dinner and $2.50 off lunch special. <br/>
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To make matters worse, this whole event happened on the day he had plans with his on again, off again relationship with Slater Conway, and because he was a no-show, chances were probable that Slater was going to be very pissed off. Lately, it didn't take very much at all to set off a violent anger in him, and Gabriel had been virtually been walking on eggshells around his lover. His being detained was really going to set him on edge, and Gabriel was dreading the outcome of that. <i>This would have never happened if I were white, thought Gabriel </i>as he paced nervously back and forth in the holding cell. He'd asked for a phone call, but that request had yet to materialize. <br/>
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He wasn't Caucasian. Gabriel was American, of Mexican ancestry. His skin tone dictated how he was being treated. Guilty before proven innocent. The blatant ignorance and stereotypical double standard was distressing, as were the stares from really dangerous criminals that were being locked up with him. He didn't look at anyone, wouldn't be caught dead staring at nothing but the space on the floor and wouldn't utter a word until he was led out of the holding cell, for fear of getting raped or killed by someone. Until a uniformed officer appeared with another man, who sounded a lot like the hateful gringos that called him a wetback at the gas station when he was at the pump getting gas in his truck. Same cocky demeanor, and entitled attitude. <br/>
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He couldn't help but lift his head up and stare out through the bars, as he overhead the conversation between the two men. One day he was going to get away from this shit heel town, to a place where racial intolerance and bigotry were a rare occurrence. In fact, had the man not asked the question, Gabriel Alcantara might have continued to pace and stare at the floor while waiting for a chance to call home. His chocolate brown eyes, formed question marks as he stared back at the guy. <br/>
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<b><b><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">"Your house? You mean the house I was wrongly accused of breaking into. Mister, all I was doing was handing out flyers for my parents restaurant, Picaduras, like they asked me to do. The only reason I was there was because I saw your flags, and thought you could use a coupon for a meal. I wasn't there to steal anything or rob you. My parents are respectable people, they value veterans for their sacrifice and it was Veteran's Day. They cook special burrito lunches and dinners at a discount for them."</span></span></b></b>​</div>