Then there are the meetings. Holy fuck, the meetings. Everyone has to sit down, everyone has to be given coffee or a beer, everyone has to be fed. Then everyone has to talk about their families, their kids, their kids’ kids, their prostate problems…then they finally get to the tedious details. They want a lower piso, they want someone to pay them a higher piso, so-and-so is overpaying the truck drivers and fucking up the market for everyone else, some chemist in Apatzingán is fucking with the meth recipe… It goes on and on until Sal wants to swallow his gun.
