July 16 2010

I walked through Chapultepec market and found a man calling out challengers to find which bottle cap was hiding his little marble. The stench of raw meat was heavy in the air. I stood and watched for a few minutes. A man with a mullet bit his lip and stared nervously at the caps shifting back-and-forth. Another man stood and gazed at everyone else. A woman with child allowed a few seconds of gawking and then scurried along. I took my camera out and didn’t even get the lens cap off before a stern reprimand was leveled on my ass. “Quita tu pinche cámara! “Put away your fucking camera!” The man, with a towel now draped over the bottle caps, shot eyes of death at me. I smiled nervously and went on my way without saying a word.

My face was down, my camera hidden from sight and inspiration sunk into my hard, cold shell. He was right. Why was I trying to get photographs of a scam? Who the hell was I? I stopped to get a cup of coffee and read a free magazine DF bookstores were giving out. I came to this sketch and felt better. I left energized, grabbed my camera and came to this scene.