By Patrick Alcatraz
EDINBURG, Texas - Let me offer some free advice to owners, managers, and operators of the region's eateries: Throw naked women on the walls. In murals, I mean. That is the first sign of a civilized society, if Paris, Madrid, Rome, and New York City can be taken into account. Along the crocodile-skinned Rio Grande Valley of Texas, nothing would go better with the daily mood of these lands than a little female skin there at your back, there on the wall running past a string of dining room tables, tables where men and women and couples sit munching on their favorite fare. The photo above is the interior of a popular restaurant on New York City's Upper West Side. It's a mood-setter series of murals a patron sees immediately after entering the eatery. Smiles follow, the lecherous kind from men and of wonderment from women. An exposed, however-soft-brushed pubic frontal at a woman's back perhaps either assuages the day's pressures or excites them. I like to order something malleable when in a cafe featuring naked women on its walls, like pot roast. I see the beef, yes, but picture a nice, round, size 38B supple female breast. Calling me, absolutely. My mouth waters.
I hit many eateries in the Rio Grande Valley, mainly because as a single man I carry around a picky appetite few women can ever fulfill. You invite me to your pad and serve Lasagna or mutton and I'm out the door. So, it's fast food most days and an occasional trip to a top-of-the-line restaurant, although there are precious few of those in this sun-parched part of the woods.
As to those walls, may I suggest the work of Modigliani, the Italian maestro famous for his languishing naked women thrown on canvas with colorful reds and yellows and blues. Maybe a jagged chick of the Picasso-bent, nose out of whack, but looking, well, delectable in a flawed-beauty sort of way. But it could be any of a thousand local artists whose work one sees at the sprinkling of art galleries here in hideous Hidalgo County. Local women would work quite nicely, as there is something about wide hips and huge breasts that historically has soothed the beast in man. Indeed, I could see one of these painters taking a swipe at painting a pile of canvasses all featuring Border Women in a variety of sexy poses, in cotton underwear & bent over being my particular favorite. The Border Ass is nothing if not inviting, as are the thousands of roadside taquerias one sees from sex-on-the hood Starr County in the west to adultery-happy South Padre Island over on the east side. Yep, these women around here need to be glorified beyond write-ups in the local newspapers telling of beatings they get at the hands of their husbands or lovers or both. Their naked beauty ought to be honored, without frickin' question.
The animal must be tamed. And, here so near to wild and goofy Mexico, the daily happenstance that is crime might be assuaged with little thoughts of innocent sex there at the noontime hangout, when maybe staring at a Victorian nude might lead to dreams of lovely, non-violent evening romance and celestial love of the sort that brings attractive children into this God-abandoned planet.
I'm a sucker for that sort of action in the Ol' Sackeroo...
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