Maybe that Wolfer drilled too deep in your head.

Jesus Helguera He put his hands over his face and rubbed his temples. “I have lost my wife, my child, my Sally, and now I am constantly thinking of you.”
“Sally? Who is this Sally, Pendejo?”
“My mule.”
“Pendejo, you need a get a grip on yourself. Sally was a beast of burden.”
“Well, I loved her.”
Chica shrugged. “I am sorry if I make you sad, Pendejo. I din’ never mean to make you sad. If you like, I will go back to jail and take my medicine.”
He turned and grabbed her. “I can’t stand this uncertainty. You come and you go. I don’t know where you are, what you are doing. I look for you to show up and you aren’t there. I, I just don’t know, Chica. I just don’t know.”
“Well, Pendejo, I don’ see, how do I say, no estímulo a permanecer.”
“I have no idea what you are saying, Chica.”
“You never ask me to stay, Pendjeo. I have never heard you say, don’ go, Chica. Not once.”
She got up and lit two cigarettes. She handed him one. “Come on, Pendejo, les’ stop arguing.” She smoked while taking off her dress, crawled into the bed and pressed herself against him. “You are jus’ tired. Maybe that Wolfer drilled too deep in your head.” The Mule Tamer