Journal, March 3, 1977 PM

I think I was sick of sitting around in El Ande by about 11 AM. At noon the administrator, Don Miguel, came over to rap. He’s very friendly and acts like he’s sincerely interested in you. But what an S.O.B. of a businessman. He was going to get the pop for me & handle it all for 30 Colones per case (plenty expensive enough for the 25-30 cases involved). When I came back to confirm the deal, the price was 36 Colones with no explanation. That’s why I’m still waiting for the pop truck, which was supposed to arrive at 10 AM.

When the beer truck finally came at 12:30, Miguel backed me (unofficially) to save me the deposits on the cases, but then chimed in with the beer company dude to try and convince me to buy 20 cases instead of ten and forget about buying any Tropical {brand} beer. I stood my ground calmly for once, but it was disconcerting to have the guy I’d just been chummily B.S.’ing with turn and put the pressure to me like that.

No comments: