I was ambling along the empty, peaceful dirt road that runs through the little Mexican village where I live (part-time). It's a quiet road with sweet homes on either side. On this road, often, there are little kids playing right there in the middle of it, in the dirt, living out fantasy adventures with their toy horses and trucks, or kicking/tossing/batting balls back and forth.
So, on this day, as I approached what I refer to as the "center" of the village -- there came a pick-up truck from the other direction -- racing down the short hill, careening around the corner, and coming straight towards me.
This little old lady was very angry.... yes indeed.
I scowled at the truck as it rapidly approached, and made the universal motion (palm-down, with repeated downward motion) signifying, "SLOW DOWN!!!"
I don't actually know if they DID slow down. All I recall now is this: as they drove by me, I saw that the pick-up was filled with men -- in the cab, and in the back -- all staring right into my eyes, as if memorizing my face. All of them (well, maybe not the driver) were holding machine guns. Cartel guys, on patrol.
I guess I told them!