Why the drug cartels hate me?!

I was invited to take a trip to Cabo San Lucas over the summer. The scenery was breathe taking. The water was the perfect blue and the seal that jumped unto the back of our boat sealed the deal.

Later that evening, we choose a resturant called "The Office" for our meal. We took our seats by the water and was instantly bombared by the locals that tried to sell us anything from t-shirts to marijuana. I was alarmed at first, this would of never happened in the states.

"No, no." I said repeatedly. I am in sales myself, so I was familiar with the numbers game and how the vendors constantly bombared you while I wanted to eat with my family. For thirty minutes solid, we were bombarded. I finally had enough and politely, sad "no" with a little hand gesture that must of offended their drug cartel boss right away.

When the next vendor came to the table, he looked as if he was doing drugs, no shirt, no shoes and no manners, reached across the black line they are not suppose to cross and stuck a joint in my face. I quickly gestured "no" from the dis-respect he had for our family.

He grabbed his private area vulgerly, "you fu6$ american!" He yelled and cursed in perfect english.

"Will, do not get up!" My sister in law warned me. "That guy just called you a horse."

I have to admit, my fight or flight instinct kicked in quick as I wanted to fight that guy for running his mouth like that. But I knew he would die a drug dealer in due time. Secretly, I also knew why he hated me, our spirit collided in war that nobody sitting at that table would understand.

I had almost finished my novel and the main character had killed many drug cartels. Again, it was just a book but I knew that writing something profound and deep had a spiritual effect on you and the atmosphere you bring.

I politely waited as he moved on and actually eneded up buying a t-shirt from a sweet little hispanic lady. I loved the hispanic culture. I could easily move there and embrace their point of views. My point is, I understood when no one else did, why that drug pusher and I did not like each other from the start. Our writings can be spiritual.