Infinity in the Immigration Room

I know this is practical reddit, and everything we have experienced from Carlitos and his associates are but a weird memory and not very important ones, like most memories. But stories where intent was clearly present are always interesting to read and I have a few. Moderations has a nack on not allowing my posts to go through though, so lets see how this one goes.

As some of you know, my father is a long time reader of Carlos and so am I. Nah I am not sorcerer so I won' t pretend to be one. Though I have experienced quite a few interesting things on this wonderful planet.

My father today is a broken man. He has no life force or ambition, can't stomach reading Carlos works anymore, and this is mostly, I believe, due to the morbid and ridiculous expectations that he put into Carlitos, just like most of people that once met him or his associates. He never took responsability for his path, instead threw it into the imaginary personality of the master he thought Carlos was, and this is a very interesting story that even morons like me and my father can stumble into infinity.

It doesn't matter where me and my father live, but lets say somewhere in SA where Carlos was very fond of in his early years. My father was obsessed with his work. At the time, Carlos had not finished the books yet. Maybe somewhere in the mid 80's to early 90's, a year or two before I was born.

My father was already engaged with my mother, he was 22 and she was even younger. He tells me that suddenly, he felt an unexplainable urge to meet Carlos, and that he woke up with certainty that he could go to Mexico and find him exactly where he was. To this day he remembers the exact spot that he thinks Carlos was, he thinks he 'saw' (who knows maybe he did). So my father went on to sell everything he had, which wasn't much. His car, motorcycle and furniture from the house he rented with my mom. My father had gotten my mother to read the books, she never fully grasped them according to her, but I feel that it had such an impact in her life that lingers to this day. Anyway, I digress. So they went and sold everything and bought tickets to Mexico.

My father had an American Visa, since one of my aunts was very wealthy and had taken the entire family to the US a couple of times, so he had a good passport all things considered.

Getting to airport they were ready to embark on their flight, when immigration police halted them on their embark gate. Started asking questions, separated my father and mother to question their reasons to a sudden trip in the middle of the year to Mexico. After much back and forth in different rooms they were both called into a booth where an 'alfandega' officer stood behind those old 'anti-bullet' (not sure how its spoken in English) glasses booths. He said these exact lines:

"Listen, I know you two are going to Mexico to immigrate to the US, so here is the deal. You tramp" he said pointing to my father "is going back to your country. I don't like your face. Now your wife is a different story."

"She is hot enough and if she allows me to fuck her she is free to go. Think about it..."

My father and mother returned to their parents house. My father especially, was devasted with this. He never got over this event and curses the immigration police to this day.

If only he could see that this encounter had more power and intent involved than if he actually got to travel and meet Carlitos in this day he would save his blessings and would be he instead of me telling this story in this subreddit today.