Well, it’s another dog-bites-man moment—I’m left standing alone, watching the crowd race by.
I wrote yesterday about a man who—assuming the reports are correct—had a secret or two. That led him to some people who dispatched him to his death, in a particularly gory and violent way. All for 400 bucks, which he had withdrawn and given them.
Into this picture steps a well-known—if not particularly well-loved—figure in Puerto Rico, and in this blog. La Comay! Yes, the guy who dresses as a woman and says absolutely-to-the-point-of-slanderous things about anybody.
Well, Jack got after me and forced me to sit through the whole thing. Yes—10 minutes of La Comay, which will last me well into my next life.
Really, it was only seven minutes of content. The other three minutes? The phrase aparente y alegadamente—apparently and allegedly. A useful phrase indeed, for La Comay got taken to court years ago, and lost in a highly publicized case.
Besides giving a possible bit of legal protection, the phrase gives the impression of impartiality. Quite needed, because La Comay then dishes up whatever rumor has come to his ears. And since we’ve heard aparente y alegadamente 333 times already—and tuned it out—the phrase does nothing more than announce the coming of a new, more scandalous tidbit.
Right—so what’s La Comay’s version?
José Enrique Gómez—finally to give the gentleman his name—phoned his wife to say that he was leaving a work event at a San Juan hotel, was going to go eat something, and would then come home.
La Comay says no. He was twenty miles away, in the city of Caguas, on a perfectly nice street in the center of town.
Nice during the day.
But, alleges and apparents (nooooo, computer, it’s just a new word! You should be happy!) La Comay, the street is a cesspool of vice—drugs, prostitution, homosexuality! (A fact La Comay never misses an opportunity to insert….) La Comay alleges that José Enrique knew a couple, had had some connection with them, and that because of that, owed them money. He invites them into his car. Another couple join them. There are four assailants and José Enrique. They force him to go to an automatic teller, and he withdraws 400$. They go to a gas station and buy a container of gas. They then beat him, douse him with gasoline, and set him on fire.
La Comay, taking a high-minded stance, says that all of Puerto Rico is consternated—consternado, or in turmoil! Can we use the ATHs—our version of ATM? Is anybody safe?
Yeah, says La Comay. At least if you’re not on Calle Padial in Caguas after dark inviting a shady couple into your car.
Well, others think differently. Here’s one:
The social networks exploded. A campaign to boycott the sponsors of the television program sprang up. Several companies have already pulled their ads.
In addition, a campaign Todos Somos José Enrique was created. We’re all José Enrique—even Ricky Martin!
Yeah?
I thought the most recent remaking of Ricky was the scenario of a guy raising kids with another guy.
Nor does it help that The New Day, our local rag, corroborates some of the details. The suspects—three of them are in custody—paint essentially the same picture as La Comay.
And it all leads to a moral conundrum—for me, at least.
Let me put it this way.
I don’t walk through La Perla—our famous or infamous San Juan slum. I don’t rack up huge cocaine bills.
And—assuming it’s true—I wouldn’t be on Calle Padial after dark.
Actually, I wouldn’t even know that I shouldn’t be.
I can go 95% of the way with the crowd who decry the tawdriness, the tackiness of La Comay.
Whom I don’t watch.
I’m holding back on saying that we’re all José Enrique.
