Tex-Mex Guy (2)

   
   "Tex-Mex Guy (2)"  
   
   It was Friday night in Phoenix, Saint Joan had risen from the ashes, more than a mere relic, but an ultra-spirit--a forever flux of fabulous energy; moreover, with a ten dollar tip from a seasoned citizen who most likely enjoyed Roy Roger reruns, the Tex-Mex Guy, Curtis, and Saint Joan went to a local, hole-in-the-wall bar.  He would only drink two Coronas, without the usually unwashed lime that can contain nasty bacteria, it further being contaminated by a non-hand-washing waitress; anyway, leaving Curtis in the muscular Mustang outside, windows halfway rolled down for ventilation, Saint Joan and the sombrero-wearing mystic entered the bar.  Like Shane and Han Solo, the Tex-Mex Guy sat in the back, able to view his encompassing environment.  Saint Joan muttered voices to him, and all the loose ladies glanced in his Doctor Strange position, wondering if he was cool or a mere crank; regardless, one brave senorita approached--long, vibrant hair, black-hued, and almond-shaped chocolate-brown eyes, with a buxom build to match her facial beauty.  She asked him if she could sit, he said, "Yes."  She then introduced herself as Celina; next, sat down elegantly, with the agile, nine-lives mobility of a wild cat.
  
CELINA
Who are you talking to handsome?

TEX-MEX GUY
Nothing imperative.  You are very stunning.  Are you Catholic?

CELINA
A Jesus freak at a bar--I like you already.  Yeah, I'm a cafeteria Catholic--I attend Mass on Christmas and Easter, pray here and there--why do you ask?

TEX-MEX GUY
The New Testament tells me to test every spirit, that energy within the body.

CELINA
Do you like my body?

TEX-MEX GUY
I like both your body and spirit.  You are a Virgo.

CELINA
How did you know that?

TEX-MEX GUY
My friend told me.

CELINA
I'd like to meet this friend.

TEX-MEX GUY
All you have to do to reach a Saint--is call them.

CELINA
Wow--you're a bring home to Daddy type.

   It was a lovely night, with moderate, responsible alcohol consumption and phone numbers exchanged.  The Tex-Mex Guy then exited the drinking establishment, blushing, and blessing himself underneath his cheesy sombrero.  Curtis greeted him with glee when he boarded the muscle car.