The Border Inn Short Stories 4q4f1k

THE BORDER INN SHORT STORIES

BOOK 1

M.M. Casanova, Jr.

Copyright © 2020 by M.M. Casanova, Jr.

ISBN:

Hardcover Softcover eBook

978-1-7960-7592-2 978-1-7960-7591-5 978-1-7960-7590-8

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 12/03/2019

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CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1 Beautiful El Paso

Chapter 2 Let’s Buy a Motel

Chapter 3 The Owner’s Son

Chapter 4 Our Motel Staff and Others

Chapter 5 Taxing Situation

Chapter 6 Shameful Clients

Chapter 7 Inspections, More Taxes, and Lawyers

Chapter 8 Other Worries

Chapter 9 Life Near the Border

Chapter 10 Extended-Stay Clients

Chapter 11 Maquinitas

Chapter 12 Conclusion

Glossary

This book is dedicated to my parents, Manuel and Gloria; my wife, Carmen; our children, Manuel, Andrea, Veronica, and Anissa; and our loving families.

INTRODUCTION

From the beginning, there is a dream to own your own business and make a lot of money so you and your family can enjoy the finer things in life. It has not worked out that way, yet. My son and I are still waiting for our ship to come in. We maybe see a slight glimmer of the mast. This book is a collection of stories that are part fiction and part nonfiction. The names and places are fictional. It is also a collection of observations and of the potential trials and tribulations of owning your own small business. There are so many headwinds going into business for the first time that is not for the weak of mind and weak bank s. All the planning that one does can be shattered by one event, such as a hurricane, rising gas prices or interest rates, a significant water or roof leak, monetary devaluation, disgruntled employees, lawsuits, etc. Or the headwinds can involve a combination of things that can hurt or ruin your business in a short time or a slow kill. What do you do? The more money you can make, the better you’ll be able to drive off these headwinds and also cover a lot of mistakes that you will make. Guaranteed. With additional capital you can rebound to set the ship straight in a hurry. The trick is how do you make more money? If it doesn’t work out, do you abandon the business, sell the business, or find the grit to fight until the end? The Small Business istration (SBA) estimates that the risk of any new business surviving in the first five years is 10 percent! There are so many legal and financial risks that pop up from everywhere. You need to have enough money and enough grit to weather the storms. Even though you are in the mouth of the lion, there is, believe it or not, hope. The financing to purchase our motel was arranged with a bank out of Louisiana that specializes in SBA lending. With the SBA 504 program, a borrower basically puts down 10 percent of the cost (equity), and the bank finances 50 percent of the cost, usually with a floating interest rate and a twenty-five-year amortization. The SBA finances 40 percent of the cost through a long-term, fixed-rate loan, also with a twenty-five-year amortization. This is a very attractive program for small business owners like me.

Many financially successful people that I know went through hell and back. Now they are wealthy because they survived the pain. One important lesson is that you make your money on the “buy.” That’s comparable to saying, “Buy low and sell high.” I thought I was buying at a good price and realized I overpaid for the motel. My business negotiating skills were nonexistent. In hindsight, I should have negotiated a much lower price, which would have helped me during all the financial storms I experienced. I would have been paying less in mortgage payments, and that extra cash would have helped me with the other payments I had to make. I would have lowered my risk. I put a lot of financial stress on my family and me. The question is whether all of this grief and money was worth it. It has been more than ten years since I purchased the motel, and I have not received a profit yet. I use a lot of the salary I make as an ant to cover any shortfalls for the motel business. Obviously, this is a big risk. I am essentially using short-term gains (my salary) for a possible long-term gain (selling the motel). Basically, it turns out to be an investment with a long-term hold. Fortunately, what has happened is that the loan debt has been cut in half, so I guess that is a return on my investment. The losses I have incurred every year reduce my taxes as well. The real return is supposed to happen when I sell the motel or refinance the loan and cash out a significant amount of money. Then I can say it was worth it. It is hard to be positive after ten years of cash shortfalls. I could look at alternative investments like stocks or certificate of deposit s. Buying stocks can give you decent returns, but it comes with high risk. The stock market is so volatile that you need some luck and a lot of patience to get good returns. Certificates of deposit are basically no risk, but the yields are very low. So if my plan works, I expect to achieve a return of 50 percent every year for ten years, plus if I refinance and cash out a good amount of money, it will be an excellent strategy, and I will still own the property. This book describes the day-to-day micro problems, issues, and wins that I have faced as an owner. Hopefully, the reader can avoid or minimize some of the mistakes I have made. On the other hand, hopefully the reader will appreciate that with no risks there is no reward. The financial opportunity can be significant if certain events fall into place. I majored in ing in college and became a certified public ant

shortly thereafter. I really liked the business world because of the opportunities to hit it big. I was good in math and wanted to push my skills in the business world for my own benefit. So I wanted to be conservative in looking at job opportunities and decided to become a A with a small firm and see what areas I wanted to specialize in. During college I found many articles that said the service industry was going to increase in demand, particularly in the ing area. Population growth patterns indicated more businesses would open up, meaning more ants would be needed. So being an ant seemed safe for job prospects, and also I am kind of on my own. It’s all about your production and how many new clients you can bring in and keep. Obviously, being an ant doesn’t necessarily lend itself to being outgoing like a vacuum cleaner salesman. ants are seen in the business world as conservative and quiet, working in the back room away from all the activity in the front. I figured an ing degree could help me in business if I ever wanted to buy or invest in a business. I ended up specializing in estate, retirement, and tax planning because I saw what happened to my boss who worked his tail off for thirty-plus years, established a successful business, and decided to retire early only to lose most or all of it because he had no will and had not done any tax planning. I’m sure he was going to get around to it, but he was gone so quickly. I had a couple of good financial years from my A practice. The twenty years I spent at a big A firm were invaluable. Learning from an established firm with seasoned ants was a good move on my part. The best thing about working there was that the firm had unlimited resources, With ten other ants and a dozen bookkeepers, the firm was so much more efficient in getting work done versus being a solo practitioner. Because I had about two hundred fifty thousand dollars in accumulated cash that I saved over the years, I talked to my bankers about how to invest the money. I wanted to make more than what I was earning at the banks. All of them gave conservative recommendations that basically involved bank products or their proprietary investment houses. I was not going to put it in a low-yielding savings or even a money market earning about 1 percent. The stock market was too finicky, and I did not want to pay excessive broker fees.

I wanted to be more aggressive and take a shot at real estate investments. Based on my calculations, as well as familiarity with many of my clients who were in the real estate investment game, I figured that I could “easily” get a return between 10 percent and 17 percent and have the business pay down the debt from operations. I knew it would not be a get-rich-quick scheme, but I wanted to earn a return much higher than the traditional investment vehicles. I knew that I had to have patience because it was going to take several years to turn a profit. The tax season was a bear. From January to April, I worked almost seventeen hours a day, including Saturdays and sometimes Sundays. Then we did it again from August through October for the clients who filed extensions. After five years of being in fourth gear, it was time to move on to something else. If I were to stay another two years or so, I might have made partner. But I just did not like the aggressive culture of pushing hard to increase the number of clients. Now I have to worry about payroll, scheduling, making appointments, etc.—the business side of an ing practice. Although I make less money, I don’t work the seventy-hour workweeks anymore. I control my own schedule. It is priceless but not easy. My time is now split between two A firms and the motel. It is like juggling three balls in the air while standing on a trampoline. I tried to decide where a forty-five-year-old man invests his money with a good, safe return. I have been intrigued with real estate since I was a teenager. I worked for a well-known restaurant owner on the San Antonio Riverwalk. He was a serious real estate investor, as he owned several restaurant properties, apartments, and condominiums in the downtown San Antonio area. I worked in the corporate offices for several years and was impressed with his knowledge, his ion for real estate investments, and what appeared to me to be an industry with great financial opportunities. So my desire was to invest in some sort of income-producing asset like apartments, retail strip centers, small offices, and so on.

CHAPTER 1

Beautiful El Paso

The City of El Paso

I was happy that my wife and I decided to move to El Paso, Texas, in 2004. I had saved enough money from my A practice that I wanted to invest so I could slow down and smell the roses. My wife, Carmen, grew up in El Paso, so we would be returning to her hometown. With a population of about one million, the city is not too big and not too small. It has pretty much everything you need. It is a very different city from San Antonio, my beloved but humid hometown. El Paso has a desert climate. The sun shines about 302 days a year—which is great for my terrible golf game—but El Paso and the surrounding mountains get snow. The city is situated on the US-Mexico border, across from Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, and is the largest border city in Texas. The other neighboring city is Las Cruces, New Mexico. For several years, El Paso was ranked the safest large city in the United States. Unemployment is under 5 percent, and in 2012 the city ed the $400 million Quality of Life bond. El Paso has several Fortune 500 companies and a very strong federal and military presence. Fort Bliss is the second-largest US Army base, with about ten thousand personnel and an area of 1.7 million square miles—one of the largest military installations in the world. In addition to military and government, the economy is diversified with international trade, oil and gas, health care, tourism, and service industries. The University of Texas (UT) has a presence here as well, with more than twenty thousand students. El Paso has several events during the year, including a rodeo sponsored by the

Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association, the Balloon Festival, and several music festivals. The city has a symphony orchestra, a ballet company, and several museums. Sporting events include the Sun Bowl, a college football bowl game; the El Paso Marathon; and a Triple-A baseball team, the El Paso Chihuahuas. Southwest University Park, a new ballpark with seventy-five hundred seats, opened in 2014. This investment alone has been a godsend for attracting more businesses and helping downtown redevelopment. We enjoy going to the ball games and afterward to the eclectic mix of bars and restaurants. I love golf, and this place has several great courses that my son and I play at least once a month. Despite all the sports in El Paso, my heart is still with the UT Longhorns, San Antonio Spurs, and Dallas Cowboys—not necessarily in that order. It depends on who is winning. I try to watch the games on TV when I can or see the Spurs in person if it’s the season when I visit San Antonio. So with all those events and more than three hundred days of sunshine, the motel benefits. The motel business is cyclical and does well during the months of spring break, the summer, and the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. The other months are slower and rely on business travelers, especially from Mexico. My wife and I love to go to Cattleman’s restaurant, said to be one of the ten best steakhouses in the country and located just outside El Paso in Fabens. I love the rib-eye steaks, and my wife loves the chicken-fried steak. Great atmosphere and great service! We also love getting away to nearby New Mexico to see the hot air balloon festival in Albuquerque or horse racing at Ruidoso Downs. Sometimes we visit the Inn of the Mountain Gods because my wife loves the slot machines. We also enjoy the skiing at Ski Apache in Ruidoso during the winter and the many incredible mountain biking and hiking trails in other seasons. It’s a paradise of activity with wonderful scenery only a short drive from home. We attend St. James Catholic Church, which has been around for over fifty years. My wife has attended this church with her family since she was a little girl. We try to go to the 10 a.m. Mass so we can have brunch afterward with my mother-in-law and my wife’s aunt and still have time to get back to watch football or basketball. We usually go to El Burrito and have the Rio Grande special: two eggs over easy, hash browns, refried beans, and a flour tortilla for

$4.99, coffee included. Great deal and great food. The salsa is awesome. St. James is a relatively large church, a classic old building with wooden pews and ornate chandeliers. When you walk in, stained glass windows surround you, and it feels spiritual. Several screens at the front help you follow the songs and responses during Mass. The church sits on about ten acres, with plenty of room for expansion. It is expanding the community building next door and plans to add more classrooms to the existing grade school. Father Eduardo, the priest, is a tall, skinny man with a black beard and mustache who looks like an apostle. He speaks softly and uses inflections when he wants to emphasize something. Padre is always having fund-raisers, such as raffles and taco or tamale sales. Apparently it has worked: parking lots are getting built, and new buildings are going up. The growing congregation should increase the coffers. One of the biggest events of the year is the canned food drive that goes on for several weeks in the fall. The food is blessed at the annual Thanksgiving Mass and then distributed to the poor of the parish. The church opens its doors on Thanksgiving Day to anyone who wants a meal, so no one is alone and hungry on the holiday. Many of the older parishioners are fortunate to benefit from this invitation. This holiday tradition has been going on for over thirty years. After a 10:30 a.m. Mass, everyone goes to the hall next to the church for the Thanksgiving meal. Father Eduardo says that many people are unemployed; families are having a hard time making ends meet, and the bills keep piling up. The padre says it is our moral and spiritual responsibility to ensure that those who have a little more reach out and share with those who have nothing. Many parishioners bring food or desserts to share with guests. My wife and I go to the hall about 9 a.m. to help get things started. It is a wonderful event that reminds us to share our blessings with anyone, church member or not. The positive economic growth of the city, the significant population growth, and the quality of life are good reasons to invest in a business in El Paso. The city has numerous economic drivers, such as the military base, tourism, a strong medical presence, the University of Texas at El Paso, and now the US Consulate expansion.

Cuidad Juarez, Mexico

Cuidad Juarez is El Paso’s Mexican sister city. It is the largest city in the state of Chihuahua, Mexico, with a population of about 1.5 million people. The sister city inhabitants are another strong economic driver for El Paso. Many of the Mexican citizens come over for shopping and medical and educational reasons. In addition, many Mexican businessmen invest in businesses in El Paso. Juarez has a huge maquiladora industry with a presence in El Paso. Maquiladoras are factories in a Mexican city that are owned by a foreign company. The factory will export its products to the country of the foreign company. The word maquila means manufacturing. The process starts with raw materials shipped from the United States to Mexico. The raw materials are then processed through a maquiladora, assembled as a finished product, and shipped back to the United States to be combined with other finished products. Most of the maquiladoras are in the auto industry. Unfortunately, Juarez’s reputation suffers because of news articles and movies depicting Mexican cartels, drug arrests, and horrific killings. Some articles say it is the most violent city in the world. No one knows when the violence might end. Fortunately, the criminal activity does not seem to have spilled over to El Paso yet. Since the Mexican drug war in 2007, the violence has increased significantly as the Sinaloa and Juarez cartels’ battle for control of the illegal drug trade. The city is also known for an abnormally high rate of violence against women. Four international points of entry connect Juarez and El Paso, and we used to visit the great restaurants across the border in better times. Not anymore—it’s too dangerous. Crime and violence is significant in Mexico and has been rampant for many years. The Juarez cartel is an organization that deals in illegal drugs, people trafficking, money laundering, extortion, murder, arms trafficking, and bribery. The cartel has been known to decapitate their enemies, mutilate their bodies, and place them in the open for public view.

The cartel has several armed wings, including La Linea, a street gang in Juarez that usually performs the executions. Reportedly, there are billions of dollars’ worth of illegal drug shipments annually to the United States. The fight among all of the cartels is to control the borders along Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California. Numerous movies, including those on Netflix, depict the violent and criminal activities in Mexico. It is scary that Juarez, the sister city of El Paso, is next door. Because of the violence, tourism has dropped off significantly in Mexico. The Mexico-US border is two thousand miles long. Texas has the longest stretch of the border. The conflicts between Mexico and the United States led to the Mexican-American War in 1846. It ended in 1848 with the Treaty of Hidalgo. Mexico lost 55 percent of its territory to the United States. This included what is today California, Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, Nevada, and parts of Colorado, Wyoming, Kansas, and Oklahoma. Mexicans are well aware of their history with the United States. It is taught in their school history books. Most American citizens don’t have a clue about how the United States was accumulated. Ironically, most of these states are growing exponentially with the Hispanic population, primarily of Mexican descent. By the year 2030, Hispanics will be the majority minority in Texas. Immigration is always in the local news and has been a hot national topic since the Obama istration. It certainly is an issue at every port of entry, and El Paso is no exception. Approximately five hundred thousand illegal immigrants, mainly from Central America (El Salvador and Honduras, for example), were apprehended at the border in 2017. The immigrants are fleeing because of the economy, the lack of human rights, the proliferation of gangs (like MS-13), and other reasons. The most at risk are the younger group, ages fifteen to thirty-five. This appears to be the age bracket for recruiting gang . If you don’t , your life and the life of your family are at risk. Many immigrants get on La Bestia, a cargo train that travels across Mexico from the southern Mexican border to the US border. The immigrants have to pay the cartel just to move around the city of Juarez. They pay the Mana again about three hundred dollars to swim across the river. If you don’t pay the fee, the cartel kidnap you and extort money from your family.

The illegals seem to cross near the bridges. Once across, they are usually chased by the border patrol. Sometimes they get caught; other times they escape. Many of the illegal immigrants who cross over will usually hook up with family in different parts of the United States. Immigration is a controversial topic politically, and the national and world news focuses on our corner of the world. Of course there is a lot of discussion about the border wall. The funding of the wall has divided the country because of its enormous expense, as well as whether or not it is really necessary. Is it the most effective way to stop illegal immigration? Maybe more security, cameras, sensors, and so on are more prudent. The border has about seven hundred miles of fencing along the two-thousand mile stretch. Some parts don’t have fencing because the terrain is so rugged and so mountainous; other parts are desert, which it is not able. The consensus seems to think it is a bad idea. The problem is that thousands of tourists and students come over by plane, car, or on foot and overstay their visas. No fiftyfoot wall will stop that type of illegal immigration. It appears that the caravans from Nicaragua, Honduras, Venezuela, and other Third World countries are coming across supposedly seeking asylum from the violence and human right abuses reportedly occurring in these countries. Unfortunately, kidnappings and murder are common in Mexico. The numbers have increased every year it seems. One of my ing clients came in one day to discuss several important matters, and he wanted my opinion. He gave me this long story about his brother and his four boys being kidnapped from their construction office in Juarez. It happened on a Monday morning around ten o’clock a.m. when two black vans pulled into the driveway of the two-story, twelve-thousand-square-foot, hacienda-style house converted to a corporate office. The father and his four sons, who are all architects and graduated from “Monterey Tech” or El Instituto de Technologia de Monterrey, were working at the corporate office. Several men in fatigues and black masks walked into the office with military rifles and escorted the father and sons outside, where they were put into vans and taken to a warehouse in a remote part of town, south of the Juarez airport.

They were held at the warehouse for ten days. Ultimately, they were forced to sign documents that transferred several properties (transferring their deeds) to the cartel organization. If they did not cooperate, their wives and kids would be harmed. The value of the properties was estimated to be around $2 million, which included their corporate office, furniture, and fixtures. Once the property transfer was made, the family was released. Luckily, no one was harmed. The family lived in Juarez for many years, and their sons were born there. After the kidnapping, they sold their homes and moved to El Paso. They operate their corporate activities in Mexico City, which is safer from their perspective. The father founded the company, which focused on building warehouses for maquiladores with their own money. The plan was to lease the warehouses to an American, Canadian, or European Top 500 company. Once the lease was established, it would be discounted at a Mexican bank. They would basically get their construction money back and do it again, with a lease strong and large enough to pay the debt, cover overhead, and still receive a 15 percent net return on their money. They had well over four million square feet of leased space throughout Mexico. Another client came in to talk about his partner who was also kidnapped but unfortunately was killed. A large project involved the expansion of the Juarez airport. Several bids were submitted, including a bid from my client. My client had been an engineer for over thirty years, had a good reputation, and designed many of the new public facilities in Juarez over the years. He had about five civil engineers on staff. I can say that he had a very successful business from a financial standpoint. The company was very profitable. Shortly thereafter, he received a letter explaining that he needed to bid 30 percent more than his original bid or consequences would be forthcoming, including harm to his family who lived on the US side. Out of fear, he amended his bid to reflect the additional increase in price. The idea was that his bid would be so expensive that he would lose the job. Unfortunately, he won the bid. The Mana were so upset that shortly after my client won the bid, he was shot to death in the morning while leaving a restaurant in downtown Juarez. His family and friends and I were absolutely devastated. You could not have met a nicer man. He was so humble and funny—a real

gentleman. First class. I went to his funeral and cried for a day. The violence and criminality does not seem to end in Mexico. As a matter of practice, most businesses pay some kind of mordida or cuota (protection fee) to the Mana on a weekly basis. I hear from my Mexican clients all the time about how upset they are that they have to do that. They are trapped, and there is nothing they can do about it out of fear for themselves and their family. It sounds like the extortions that are well documented with Mafia operations in Boston or Chicago. With all the discussion in 2018 about immigration, some insight may help you understand what it is like to run a business in a border town with immigration issues in the background. From an economic standpoint, we need immigrants to continue filling many job positions in the United States. But they need to come in legally. They need to take the classes and the test. It’s a process that I encourage anyone to follow. Many immigrants seek asylum from their own countries, primarily from Central American countries. The American Civil Liberties Union claims that anyone who crosses the border is entitled to asylum. The US Department of Homeland Security estimates that about seventy thousand people a year claim asylum between official ports of entry. Many immigrants entering the United States legally and illegally seek asylum. One story is about a twenty-five-year-old who paid two thousand dollars to cross by river. She had fled her home country of Honduras because a drug trafficker had raped her and threatened her family. Her father threw her out of the house when he found out she was pregnant. She was hoping to meet up with her sister in Georgia. Most immigrants it seems have family in the United States. Some immigrants are African migrants fleeing oppressive governments in countries such as Nigeria. Many of the asylum seekers don’t want asylum in Mexico because it is dangerous. Asylum seekers believe that the United States is the only country in the world that respects human rights. The immigration issues are reaching a boiling point, so much so that the White House has indicated it may close entry points along the US-Mexico border. That event, if it happens, would be devastating at so many levels, including trade, tourism, and preventing Mexican workers to fill jobs in the US. Approximately one hundred thousand people cross into the Unites States in more

than thirty thousand vehicles daily at the San Ysidro bridge. Any disruption in bridge activity for a long period of time has a far-reaching negative impact. The North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) is a big thing for Texas and El Paso, being along the border. NAFTA is a trilateral trade agreement between the United States, Mexico, and Canada that was signed in 1992. The goal was to eliminate barriers to trade and investment between those three countries. NAFTA was an economic boon for Mexico and cities like Juarez because it jump-started the maquiladora industry and eliminated tariffs on more than half of Mexico’s exports to the United States. El Paso indirectly benefited from the agreement because of the economic stimulus it created for both sides. Many companies in El Paso export a large number of products to Mexico, thereby creating jobs to the trade.

CHAPTER 2

Let’s Buy a Motel

I had reached a point financially where I wanted to invest the money we had saved, so I decided to invest in real estate instead of bank money markets and certificates of deposits earning only a 1 percent rate of return. The problem with real estate is that it has above-average risk and is time consuming, but the returns can be very good. My wife was sort of okay with the idea, but she was not interested if it was going to absorb more of our already thin time. But she saw it like I did as a retirement vehicle. I had some experience with residential real estate investments like houses and condominiums. I probably owned over fifteen units over the last twenty years. I know I made more money than I lost, but it is a big hassle if tenants don’t pay on time. Between collection letters, phone calls, and on-site visits, a lot of time is wasted. But that is the way the business functions. I saw the motel as seventyfive residential units all in one place where collections would be easier and effective. I also saw the motel, built in 1971, with a lot of upside. The property sits on 2.5 acres with a lot of parking and is near the international bridges. We have three buildings on the property. The main building has twenty rooms, the second building has thirty rooms, and the third room has twenty-five rooms. The twostory buildings form a U shape with a swimming pool converted to a garden more or less in the center. The building foundation is solid. It is built with reinforced concrete and will last for decades. The exterior is concrete block with stucco. You can see the border fence as you leave the motel parking lot. The previous owners had operated it as a Motel 6 for about eight years. They owned other larger hotels in bigger cities, and they decided they would rather spend their time and money with those operations than a hotel that was hard to travel to and so far from the major cities in the state. When I moved to El Paso, I was planning to

live out my life there. I had no plans of picking up my roots again. However, the idea of making a significant investment in a business I basically knew nothing about was very risky. Be careful when making a business decision like this. You may not be able to recover from it. Have a backup plan or another reliable source of income that can provide a backstop. The motel under the previous owners was struggling for years, and I think part of it was that the previous manager was taking money—at least that is what the rumors were in town. The motel is located close to the northern Texas-Mexican border near El Paso. The rooms are about three hundred square feet in size. Most have two full-size beds, a desk, a dresser set with a larger mirror on the wall, and two nightstands. Near the entrance is a round table with two chairs. The rooms are comfortable but require constant maintenance because of constant customer usage. We still use these twenty-five-inch televisions that are old and bulky looking but most work. I need to change to flat screen televisions as soon as possible, but that will cost about three thousand dollars to change out for all the rooms. There is no money right now for that. Most rooms have carpet, and the rest have tile. The doors operate with a thirtyyear-old key system that I have not changed yet. Basically, a plastic key about two inches by three inches with punched holes opens the door. It would cost about four thousand dollars to change it out, but I don’t have the money. We don’t get too many complaints, but I know that locking system is seriously outdated. The motel has a hacienda look with a clay tile roof. Most of the rooms face the garden area. The motel was old and tired looking when I bought it. It needed a lot of work and still does. As you enter the motel grounds, you park your car under the covered parking area to get to the lobby. Two bright red doors greet you as you enter. The focal point of the motel is the lobby, the first impression to the customer. The lobby is about one thousand square feet and has a long reception desk where customers pay for a room. As you enter the lobby, there is a large clock in the center of the back wall. On the left-hand side are several tables and chairs that accommodate the continental breakfast guests in the morning. On the right-hand side are the restrooms, a break room for the staff, and two large leather sofas where customers can lounge.

The break room is used as a storage room where we keep the inventory of sodas, chips, candy, etc. There is also an old, large refrigerator that is used for bottled water, beer, soda, butter, and frozen waffles. The refrigerator has not broken down once. Paned windows surround the entire front of the lobby, so a lot of sunshine comes through and lights up the space. Thank goodness. We decorate the lobby for whatever holiday or event is in season. Whether it is fiesta time, St. Patrick’s Day, Halloween, or the holiday season, the lobby is decked out with the appropriate decorations. Customers love it, and it creates a fun atmosphere. Over the years, Flor, the day manager, has spent a lot of time decorating the lobby, and she seems to have a ion for it. Most of the motel business comes from Mexican visitors, people who need to renew their student visas, work visas, medical visas, etc. We also receive “winter Texans,” individuals who come from the northern to midwestern part of the United States during the winter months. We also operate a small convenience store that offers sodas, beer, chips, candy, pickles, etc. This adds another thousand dollars per month. I also decided to use one of the rooms that had a kitchenette to prepare about ten types of tacos, hot dogs, and burritos. The cook wraps them in aluminum foil and places them in the lobby under a heat lamp for the day. That works out well since the overhead is low, and there are no restaurants in a four-block radius. This set-up is convenient and brings in between fifty and a hundred fifty dollars per day. We also offer parking for noncustomers at ten dollars per day. These are primarily customers who park their car and cross the border for the day or so. This brings another hundred dollars a day. The motel has outdoor coin-operated washers and dryers in a part of the building with an open hallway between two buildings and a roof. So it works out very well with extended-stay customers. Unfortunately, it is open air, and other customers can see you washing and drying your clothes. Because the motel has so many rooms, I was concerned that I could not rent them out as regular, daily motel rooms. I needed to consider promoting extended-stay rooms. I decided to push this concept aggressively with marketing in newspapers and on billboards. I had to stabilize the motel operations as soon as possible. I rent out about half of the rooms for extended-stay customers. I charge four hundred dollars a month, which includes the water, electricity, and

cable. Or renters can pay for three months and get the fourth month free. This program has been very popular. We also offer “siesta” rooms. These are rooms that people can use for two to three hours to shower, sleep, rest, etc. We charge twenty dollars for two hours and thirty dollars for three hours. This is also a good line of business and provides about a hundred dollars a day as well. The motel has a two-thousand-square-foot bar that apparently was the happening place thirty years ago. When I bought the motel, the bar was not operating. It was in pretty good shape but definitely needed fresh paint and repairs on the doors and restrooms. So I came up with the idea of hiring a jazz band on weekends to try to spice up the place and hopefully bring in some business. It was an experiment and ran its course in about three months. I really enjoyed it because the music was good, and the beer was cold. We would get a crowd of about fifty to seventy-five people each Friday and Saturday. However, it was lot of work and basically most of the profit went to the musicians. Also, because the motel is not far from the local community college, we get students on weekends, and some students stay with us on a monthly basis. The college has been growing favorably ever since a new president was hired about two years ago. Several professors even stay with us, as it is convenient for them not to get an apartment with a big down payment, electrical bills, water bills, and cable bills. They may be teaching for a semester and don’t want to be tied up for a year or so with a long-term lease. So we provide flexibility. Of course some students don’t like us because we don’t provide a swimming pool, study rooms, etc. that you would find at a college dorm. But the price is hard to beat.

My Indian Friends

The original owners of the motel were five Indians from Los Angeles, each with a 20 percent ownership in the limited liability company that owned the motel. They walked into my A office one day and asked if I knew anyone who would be interested in buying the motel. I had done some estate planning for the main guy, named TJ. I met him through a banker friend of mine at a Diwali (Indian

festival of lights) bank function. TJ was about sixty years old and had a relatively large family with four sons and three daughters. His wife had ed away from breast cancer two years ago, and he realized that he had to do something to protect his assets from Uncle Sam. I had been working on an estate plan for TJ for a while. It was an involved process, as he had several significant real estate properties, stock interests, and business interests. As I tell my clients, estate planning is for everyone. Whether you are retired or not and have assets or not, people need to plan for old age, health care directives, and funeral arrangements. Estate planning is more than just planning for death. It also involves building a worthwhile estate during your lifetime and making sure that those assets are protected in an estate that can be ed to the next generation. It’s as simple as that. Estate planning encourages wealth building. Once the estate is built, it has to be preserved. I always recommend that there be an estate planning team: the attorney, the ant, the insurance agent, and the financial planner. In addition, there is the probate court (oversees the executor and interprets the will), an executor (manages the assets and liabilities of the decedent), the Internal Revenue Service, and a trustee who are all involved one way or another with the estate-planning process. The focus is to accomplish the client’s financial and family goals. TJ had arrived from New Delhi, India, twenty some years ago at the invitation of his younger brother, Bipin, who was in El Paso selling jewelry. Bipin had a small jewelry store in downtown El Paso and was having good success. He sold a lot of gold jewelry and watches. Their top-selling items were Rolex watches and gold chains for around your neck. Apparently his biggest clients were gang who bought the chains frequently. I always wondered if they were laundering money from other business enterprises. Their s were opened at a bank in the mall within fifty feet of the jewelry business. I never asked because I did not want to meddle. The jewelry store had an urban feel to it and attracted a much younger crowd. TJ also had a few kiosks throughout the main mall. He was involved with the Chamber of Commerce and the El Paso Economic Development Company, and

he regularly volunteered for events at the local college, where his young daughter Emani was attending. I had been in my office at seven o’clock this particular morning to get ready for a probate hearing at ten o’clock. My assistant, Betty, came in to my office and said, “Good morning, Mr. M. TJ is here and would like to visit with you for about ten minutes. I told him that you were preparing for a hearing. Should I ask him to make an appointment?” “No, that’s fine; send him in. It’s okay,” I said. “Good afternoon, Mr. Manolo, sir,” said TJ as he pulled up a chair. “How are you doing, sir?” “I’m doing great, TJ. Would you like some coffee?” I asked as I stirred some sweetener into my cup. “A cup of black coffee would be good, Mr. Manolo,” TJ said. TJ always dressed sharp. He was wearing a black suit, white shirt, and blue tie, and I was surprised to see him at eight thirty in the morning. “What brings you here so early in the morning?” I asked. He had just returned from India and wanted to know how his estate planning was coming along. “Did you get the information you requested from my daughter Emani?” TJ asked. “Yes I did, thank you,” I responded. “I’ll review it later today and call you if I have any questions.” I had asked TJ for his last tax return so I could determine his distributions from the trust I set up. “Do you know of anyone interested in the motel? We really need to get out of El Paso. We have other opportunities in Dallas that we want to explore, but we need some more cash. So, if we can sell the motel for what we bought it, we would be happy,” TJ said while checking his watch. “I have my feelers out also,” he added. “I talked to Fred at the bank, and he said that he was going to ask around as well.”

“How much do you want for the motel?” I asked. “Well, we bought it for $1.5 million ten years ago. If we can get that amount, we would sell,” said TJ. “How many rooms does it have?” I asked as I made some notes on a pad. “Seventy-five rooms, and about twenty are suites with kitchenettes. We are spending too much time out here when we think we can make more money somewhere else back in Dallas,” TJ commented. Whenever we had lunch or dinner, TJ would take me to the Star of India restaurant. It took me a while to get used to Indian cuisine, but I got to like the wide variety of seasonings they use. I really started to like the basmati rice and all the seasonings that go into it. The naan and luchi bread reminded me of the Mexican tortilla. We drank tea every time we ate, and I found out that tea is the national beverage of India. They were offering the motel at $1.5 million, which was based on a two-year-old appraisal, and it seemed like a reasonable price. I asked for the historical financial statements and tax returns so I could review them to analyze trends, sales, and profitability. I noticed that the most recent year’s tax returns showed sales had decreased from the year prior. That decrease in sales is generally a red flag for an investor. I should have asked a lot more questions about the decline in sales. Their business model was different from the way I was going to run the motel. My model was riskier compared to the Indians’, but I believed it could work. Their model included using relatives from India to help run the motel. They paid them below minimum wage and worked them longer than forty hours a week. These employees covered the lobby, housekeeping, and maintenance. That is a big advantage when it comes to labor costs and IRS payments for federal income taxes and Social Security taxes. Their labor cost could be cut down to 50 percent of what I would pay. That could be a huge advantage for a motel operator. My model did not include me being there 24/7 because I couldn’t. I had my day job with my ing firm. However, my son would help out, and I’d pay him better than minimum wage. I think what happens is investors like me fall in love with a dream or idea to own

something like a hotel, apartments, a restaurant, etc. There is nothing wrong with dreaming. The problem is that the reality is an expensive nightmare for a while before it becomes a halfway decent idea, if ever. If you want to invest in a business, ask a lot of questions and be as objective as possible when evaluating an opportunity. Do your due diligence.

Banks

When I was looking for financing to purchase the motel, several banks were involved in the review process. I submitted my financial information, including personal financial statements with the ing schedules and my personal tax returns. This process took several weeks of back-and-forth questions and submitting bank statements and other personal information. I settled on Whitney Bank out of New Orleans, Louisiana. The broker I was working with highly recommended this bank because of its SBA experience. The banker I dealt with was very friendly and helpful. He was good about returning phone calls and carefully explaining the process to me. He was excellent in guiding me through the whole SBA program. Unfortunately, the process took well over six months. I my attorney asking me why I wanted to do this. She said that the business would absorb my time and may dip into my personal money. I kind of laughed and ignored it. I said, “Well, it looks like a good investment opportunity, and I want to do it.” The attorney was right, of course. I’ll never forget that day when she challenged me about buying the motel. The closing process was time-consuming and frustrating. I was eager to close the loan but had no control over the process. I was eager to be miserable. There is no urgency with the government. When we finally closed the loan at the attorney’s office, I must have signed two reams of documents and was there several hours. The SBA representative was there and explained almost every paragraph in every SBA document. The banker also was there and explained all of the bank documents to me.

With an SBA loan, there are so many detailed forms with detailed instructions that take time to fill out. It is discouraging once you begin and discouraging if you fill out the form wrong. That is why it is important to have an SBA expert help you along. Once my deal was done, however, I did not have to worry about renewing the loan, paying for a new appraisal, or paying other fees that you would have to pay if the loan were a conventional one. Also, the fixed rate feature of the SBA was a big money saver as rates have gone up since my closing. I deal with three banks currently and have good relationships with their bank officers. A good businessperson has to have several banks to deal with. I learned that lesson when the one bank I was dealing was sold to another bank out of state. The new owners fired almost everyone, including the bank officer I dealt with. They closed several branches, including the one I frequented, changed their policy on many things, and raised their service charge rates on deposit s. After that experience I decided to open s at other banks and establish relationships with banks that were well managed and customer centric. At El Paso Capital Bank, I deal with Felipe. He is very good about calling me if I get several days past due on my loans. He texts me or calls me directly. He has been a banker for over fifteen years and knows my business very well. He understands that certain months are slow and other months are busy. He understands that most of my cash flow comes at the beginning of the month and slows toward the end of the month. His understanding of my business puts me at ease. At County Credit Union, I deal with David. He pays my overdrafts and covers my checks. We have known each other for over twenty years, so he knows I’m good for them. I don’t like to be overdrawn because of the thirty-five-dollar overdraft charge. Unfortunately, there are times when the deposits are slow at the motel and cannot cover the bills. At El Paso Community Bank, where I have both personal and business s, I deal with Fred. He helps me with several loans I have for the ing practice. I use a line of credit to cover slow months at the firm. I need to pay expenses, primarily payrolls and utilities. I have other loans for equipment and

vehicles. I have known Fred for about five years, and he is very helpful. At Texas Capital Bank, I deal with Carlos. He handles a personal loan that I took out, as well as another business for the motel. It is a very good idea to work with at least two banks, better with three banks. Most business people deal with several banks. The service charges and overdraft charges incurred with the other banks are worth it because of the payment of your overdraft checks by the bankers. Banks make money from the fees, and you keep your business working. Things happen at banks. They can be taken over by other banks, they can be taken over by out-of-state corporations, or they can fail. They may have bad loans that will force them to change their loan policy, usually to the customer’s detriment. The loan officer may move to another bank, the loan officer may get fired, or the loan officer may leave banking altogether. So if a banker that you have been working with changes jobs, it could be devastating. To work with a new loan officer is a major hurdle. You may not like the new banker, and he or she may not like you. It’s imperative to work with more than one bank, but you need to know who the bosses are just in case you need help with your loans, deposits, etc. I have learned from experience that bankers come and go. A businessperson needs a consistently available and dependable banker to help his or her business succeed.

Small Business istration

The Small Business istration is a governmental agency that assists small businesses in a variety of ways, including the guarantee of bank loans, disaster assistance, and loan financing. One of its popular programs, which has been around for years, is called the SBA 504 Certified Development Company Loan Program. That is the program I participated in to get the motel financed. I was able to get below-market fixed rates for twenty years and only had to put

down about 10 percent. That way I could keep more cash in the bank in case I needed it later. I knew that most businesses fail because they don’t have enough working capital. If I had gone to a bank and received conventional financing, I would have had to put down 20 percent to 25 percent, which would have drained all my cash on a $1.4 million loan. Conventional financing would not have worked for me. The person who helped coordinate the SBA financing was Tom. He was methodical and heavy on experience. He had worked with people from the SBA for over twenty-five years. I knew Tom from previous work he had done for some of my clients. He had always said that if I wanted to purchase a building for my ing practice, he could find attractive financing for me. So I called him one day and asked him about possibly financing a motel. He said, “Are you crazy? Why do you want to do that? It is very risky, and it will be time-consuming.” Thanks for the confidence, Tom. Unfortunately, Tom knows what he talking about. He has seen it all. As I mentioned earlier, there is a lot of paperwork involved with getting a SBA loan. The SBA requests a lot of financial and personal information. It needs an executive summary that describes your business and mission statement. It asks for organizational charts and management résumés, descriptions of your marketing and sales strategies, the funding request, and financial projections. The idea is to convince the SBA that your business is stable and that you have a good product line. Of course, it also needs balance sheets and income statements for the last three to five years and a thorough business plan. The financial projection has to be prepared for the next five years. “What, is the ing practice not keeping you busy enough?” Tom asked. “Well, I just have this money burning a hole in my pocket, and I don’t want to put it in a savings ,” I said. “Yeah, but you are taking a significant financial risk. What do you know about running a motel?” he asked. “Nothing! But how hard can it be?” I retorted. “It can be plenty hard, and you may lose your investment and put yourself in all

kinds of legal jeopardy. Why do it at your age of fifty years old? You need to start slowing down and conserve your cash, not spend it!” he cried. “I know you are giving me sound advice, but I see a lot of upside with this investment because many of the rooms are not being used. With some improvements and marketing, I think I can improve the revenues,” I said. “Hey, well, I’m here for you, but please think twice about it. Okay?” he asked. “Of course, I’ll think about it,” I replied. The financing to purchase the motel as mentioned earlier was arranged with the Whitney Bank out of Louisiana. They specialize in Small Business istration (SBA) lending. With the SBA 504 program, a borrower basically puts down 10 percent of the cost (equity), and the bank finances 50 percent of the cost, usually with a floating interest rate and a twenty-five-year amortization. The SBA finances 40 percent of the cost through a long-term, fixed-rate loan, also with a twenty-five-year amortization. This is a very attractive program for small business owners like me.

Mexican Investor

I did not have enough money to make the required 10 percent down payment that the Small Business istration wanted. I needed help. So I thought about Juan Pablo (JP). As I was thinking about the Indians selling their motel, it occurred to me that maybe with a partner like Juan and his experience, we could go together on buying the Indians’ motel. I had to think about that for a while. I like Juan, but he was a client, and I was not sure if I wanted to complicate the client/ant relationship. I’d known Juan Pablo for years, as he was one of my first customers. He was very high on himself, almost narcissistic. He was about six foot one and in love with his machismo personality and his handlebar mustache. He had a goatee that, combined with his thick hair, almost made him look diabolical. His family had been in politics for a long time, starting with his great-grandfather who was the

mayor of Juarez thirty years ago. They had old money. God knows how much they had, giving the corrupt history of Mexico, especially in the bigger cities where there was more money flowing daily. As noted throughout history, greedy politicians usually get rich and powerful. His brother Alberto was a diputado or a member of the Mexican Congress and mysteriously got ill one day and was dead in three months. The official story was that he had a brain tumor, but the street story was that he was killed by the cartel because of his vocal opposition to the cartel. He was close to the president of Mexico, and his political future looked bright. He left behind a wife and three daughters. Juan had a very healthy ego and thought he was smarter than everyone. I think he meant well, but it just seems it was always about him and his looks. His dad was a doctor in Juarez and very popular in Mexican politics. Juan had a small motel in Juarez that he owned with his brother. It was about thirty-five rooms and colonial style, with a large, open courtyard that was ideal for events, especially weddings. I had been to his motel several times, and it was busy each time. Things were okay with JP and me for a while but went south after three years. JP was expecting a return on his money right away, even though I told him that it would take a while to turn the motel into a profitable investment. I told him that the motel required extensive repairs, and the air conditioners, beds, and other furniture all had to be replaced. In addition, one of the buildings required extensive painting and new sheetrock. The flat roof for that building also needed extensive patch work. It would have been too costly to replace it. I did not have that much money after I made the down payment to buy the motel. In hindsight, I probably paid too much for the motel, even though the bank-ordered appraisal came in considerably higher than the purchase price. For some reason JP gave my son a hard time. From what I gathered, my son would not put up with the condescending way JP talked to the employees and him. My son would push back and tell him what should be done. This infuriated JP. He would complain to me, and I would say, “Okay, I’ll talk to Tres.” Things were cool for a few months, and then it would flare up again. And the situation just kept repeating itself. I finally got JP out by g a loan note, paying him interest until I sold the motel or refinanced it at a bank with a

loan advance to pay him back. With him out of our hair, the work environment became more positive and healthy. The stress and pressure went away, and my son was very happy. Like a lot of people, JP struggled during the last recession and lost several income-producing properties through partnerships he was involved in. He also lost his house through foreclosure. Unfortunately, JP had a bully streak, and his somewhat typical macho arrogance turned off everybody at the motel. I tried to ignore it, but I had to draw the line one day. He came to my office for his two o’clock appointment, and I said, “Buenos dias, Juan. Como estas? … Todo va bien?” I said. “Si, Senor Manolo, todo va muy bien!” he exclaimed. “Senor Manolo, we probably need to put three hundred thousand dollars into the motel to bring it up to where it should be,” he said as he got some bottled water from my office refrigerator. “What are you talking about, JP? We already have spent one hundred thousand more than expected. I know we need to spend more money, but I don’t have it, and I don’t think you have it either,” I said loudly. “Yes, but we should think about getting a bank loan,” he retorted. “JP, are you willing to guarantee the loan?” I responded. “No, of course not,” he said. “Well, I’m not interested in getting another loan. I already have too much direct debt. What I want to do is improve the profitability through better marketing efforts using Expedia and Bookings.com. Since the motel is not a flag motel, I don’t have a national reservation system like Motel 6 and Holiday Inn. The upside is that I don’t have to pay a 6 percent to 9 percent franchise fee to the corporate parties of the flag companies. Any profits are thrown back into the motel. I will improve the motel organically. No more debt for right now.” I had paid fifty thousand dollars to fix about twelve rooms that badly needed improvements. The lender and the SBA required the improvements. I did not think that was necessary, but I really had no choice. Unfortunately, it drained my

liquidity significantly, which I was not planning on. JP has two kids, a son and a daughter. The son, the youngest, was going to medical school in Los Angeles,. He is very close to his son, Eduardo, and they are in frequent communication with each other. JP visits his son regularly. He lights up when he talks about his son. His daughter is another story. He is not close to her and doesn’t talk to her at all, except maybe during the Christmas holidays. He blames it on the divorce, and the daughter says it was JP’s fault. She married a politician in Honduras. She has lived there for over five years and has two kids. It pains JP to talk about his daughter. He is desperately trying to connect with her. I have known JP for over twenty years, and he has always carried himself like a Romeo. He usually dates pretty girls half his age. He divorced his wife over ten years ago but was a ladies’ man during the marriage. I’m sure that his activities contributed to the divorce. I don’t know where JP gets his energy, given that he is sixty-seven years old and has large businesses on both sides of the river. Nevertheless, I think JP will never change, and I hope he finds his happiness. Because of JP’s brother’s involvement in politics and the political history of JP’s father and grandfather, JP decided to enter politics as well. He ed the current governor during the campaign and accepted a position with the state developing trade relations with Texas. JP relishes this position, as he enjoys the exposure and notoriety. He enjoys rubbing elbows with the politicians and the staff at the governor’s office in Austin. Again, where does he get the energy? I do worry about JP’s high-level position with the Mexican state and possible exposure to the cartels and possible influence by these criminal organizations. There is a high risk that JP and the governor can be compromised. A recent article in the newspaper told about the twenty-three-year-old nephew of the governor being arrested at the Dallas airport for carrying cocaine on a private plane. The governor came out and said that if found guilty, his nephew will need to face the consequences. An investigation is ongoing, and it will be interesting to see if the governor was tied to the drug trafficking. Consequently, will JP experience any legal jeopardy if the governor was involved with the nephew? The rumor in the streets is that the governor is very nervous about the situation.

The debt still remains with JP, and occasionally I’ll fall behind and then catch up. Once the motel stabilizes, I will refinance it and get some cash out to pay off JP. I hope to do this within a year.

CHAPTER 3

The Owner’s Son

Manolo III (Tres), my only son, was twenty-two years old when he started working with me. He has two years of college but got distracted with girls. He talks about going back to college, but he has been out for a while. My daughter, Maria, decided to become an attorney and lives in Fort Worth with her husband, who is a corporate attorney. No grandkids yet. I still encourage Tres to get his degree. For some reason that I do not know, he is not interested in college. His ion is golfing, and he is a single-digit handicapper, always playing in tournaments around the city. I got him quite a few lessons when he became a teenager. He picked up the game very fast and won several high-profile tournaments by the time he was eighteen. Because he was not making a lot of money, I would front money for his golf tournament excursions. I would pay for the entry fee, for the gas to get there, or to get his golf clubs out of the pawnshop. At one city tournament, he came in first place among forty other competitors in his flight level. When he called me to tell me he won, he was ecstatic! He knows the golf nomenclature like nobody else. I would hear him analyze a golf course or a swing or a pro golfer, and I’d be lost in two minutes. The detail and in-depth explanations were over my head. He talked as if that was the most important thing in his life. He would play on weekends and choose from various municipal courses in the city. He was playing for money with different groups of guys and really seemed to enjoy it. I guess it was like me playing poker weekly for money. He was also a very good basketball player in high school. He is about six foot two and fit. He is also intelligent, scoring in the top 5 percent of all high school seniors nationwide. He knows all aspects of the motel operation, and I can trust him to run it when I’m out of town. It took him a while, but I think it finally hit

him that if we can work the motel to some optimal point, the payday could be very good, and the financial future would be bright for him. He has stepped up his game with regard to the motel and is now fully immersed. I could not be happier. I am praying that one day, this motel investment I made will pay off handsomely so he can get a nice cut of that profit. I keep telling him that our ship will be coming in soon. Tres’ personality was a little rough at the start of his employment, and I blame that on lack of experience. He really had no other work experience dealing with adult employees and demanding clients. He did have some part-time summer work at a local bank. He liked it, but it was not for him. As time has gone on, he has learned to keep cool and minimize the drama. He has improved his leadership style and has become more emphatic with employees, which has created a better work environment. He did not get along with JP. Both are stubborn and opinionated. “Can we work on the landscaping today?” I asked him one day. “The grass is getting very high, and it does not look good.” “Yeah, Dad, I have to work on a couple of rooms first and check on the ACs,” Tres responded. “The lawn mower is not working, but I can use the Weed Eater, I think.” “Okay, but if it doesn’t get done, I’ll have to hire outside, and that can get expensive,” I said. “No problem, Dad. I got it covered,” Tres answered. I would pay Tres forty dollars daily, which was okay with me. He would get the forty dollars every morning during the morning shift. He did not like the biweekly paycheck like everyone else. I tried many times to get him to change his mind, and finally I gave up. He would still get a biweekly pay stub and a W-2 form at the end of the year. Tres and I like to gamble. Particularly, we like to gamble on horses. I like to gamble on sports weekly. I bet football and basketball, both college and professionals. My normal handle is about three to five dollars per bet for a total of maybe seventy-five dollars. So I’m not a big spender, and I don’t think I’m

addicted. It makes the games more interesting, and I love to bet on my favorite teams. It’s amazing how your blood pressure goes up, especially in those tight games. My son loves to go to the track for pari-mutuel betting, meaning he bets on races that are happening at tracks across the country. He likes the exotics like trifecta and superfecta betting, which is high risk but high rewards. My concern is that he’s using most of his daily pay on gambling. Months go by where he doesn’t bet at all, and he will shift his focus to golf or coin collecting. He called me one day several years ago and had some news for me: “Hey, Dad, you got a minute?” “Sure, are you at the motel?” I asked. “No, I’m here at the track,” he said. “Make sure you don’t spend all your money on gambling. I get worried about that,” I responded. “I know, but guess what?” “What?” I responded. “I bet twenty-five bucks on a superfecta with a couple of long shots, and I won!” he said loudly. “Wow! Great, how much did you win?” I asked. “Nineteen thousand dollars!” he shouted. “What! Nineteen thousand dollars! My God, that is a lot of money. Where are you now?” I asked. “I’m at the track. They are putting the money in a bag I gave them,” he said. “Oh my God, Tres, you need to take care of that money!” I exclaimed. “I know, but I’m going to pay some bills, buy clothes and other things,” he replied.

About two months later, he called me again. “Hey, Dad, guess what?” he said. “What?” I asked. “I won again!” he exclaimed. “You won what again?” I asked. “I won at the track on another superfecta bet!” he cried out. “What!” I shouted. “Yes, this time I won seven thousand dollars,” he responded. “Oh my God, what luck!” I exclaimed. Tres had other jobs, but the motel job was dependent on him working very closely with other individuals who may not have the same motivation as he does. The fact that he is the owner’s son creates different challenges as well. He still needed to earn their respect. Ownership was not enough. He had to learn the business and create new ideas so they saw that he was committed to the motel and a game changer with the focus on sales and profitability. At the beginning, it was very bumpy since he knew little Spanish and had no motel experience. I have to give him a lot of credit for hanging in there all these years. My son was not too interested in the motel, but he was more interested in the motel than in college. His interest in the motel was lukewarm at best. One day, I told him I had heard that the US government just bought the old Best Western in Ciudad Juarez and was going to expand the existing US Consulate. All this consulate business was going to come through downtown in the form of visa visitors from the US side and the Mexican side. I explained to him the details of the number of visitors it could be. I said if we get 2 percent of the expected crowd, we will be at two levels higher. We would go from a 2.5 star to a 3.5 star or better. The consulate activity would be a game changer and a lifechanging experience for both of us. I would be able to pay him a much better salary than what I was doing now.

The US government announced about eight years ago that a new project was approved to expand the existing US Consulate in Juarez, Mexico. The cost was going to be $150 million and take about three years to build. A large construction company from Georgia was approved to build the expansion. The new facilities would house the FBI, CIA, ICE, and Homeland Security agencies. I’m not sure how a construction company from Georgia was selected, but El Paso was ecstatic to hear about the proposed project. The current capacity at the US Consulate is very limited and cannot meet the existing demand, and it will not be adequate for the anticipated future demand. The old US Consulate was built in the 1950s and was never upgraded. It can only handle about one hundred applicants a day, totally inadequate for what is needed. People have to stay for days, even weeks, until their visas are approved and issued. Consulates provide the same services and carry the same official functions of an embassy. Consulates provide ports, birth registrations, and many other services for visiting or resident American citizens in a country. They also have consular sections, which issue visas for foreign citizens to visit, study, and work in the United States. The consulate is led by a consul general. The idea of a new consulate started under President George Bush. It was brought to his attention that the US consulate system was inadequate, and the lack of adequate consular services was one of the reasons for the US immigration problems. Once it became known that the US government was considering expanding and building a new US Consulate, the frenzy started. And once it became known that Juarez was a potential sight, the states of New Mexico and Arizona got into the fight. All of the respective governors, senators, and representatives got into the fight and tried to lobby the president and the vice president to move it to the Mexican sister cities for the respective US states. Fortunately, the US ambassador to Mexico at the time was a native son of El Paso. It is apparent that when the opportunity presented itself, the ambassador saw it as a way to help out the El Paso County area and, specifically, the city of El Paso. What a windfall for the city and all the businesses that would benefit from that one decision. It would change the economic landscape of the city forever.

This plan was put up on the drawing board ten years ago because of the serious need for better offices and services to meet the increasing demands. Once the decision was made on the location, the design portion began. It took several years to get the design of the building completed. Then, obtaining a contractor followed, and that took just as long because of the government bidding process. Coordination with the Mexican government and the Mexican unions was also required, and I heard that it was a delicate and difficult negotiation. The actual time to complete construction was going to take approximately two years. In the next six months, the consulate will open, and after a long, lean, problematic ten years, perhaps some financial rewards finally will be coming our way. The Border Inn will never be the same. If the anticipated increase in rooms is realized, I will gladly give raises and hire more lobby personnel, maintenance helpers, and housekeeping staff. I anticipate more headaches, but I hope the bank s improve, and that way I don’t have to keep paying the banks the numerous overdraft charges on a monthly basis. I would be able to replace the AC units and the beds, update the furniture, fix the roof, and buy more washers and dryers. I would replace all the fencing around the motel and add better lighting. City officials estimate that approximately seven hundred people per day, or thirty-five hundred travelers per week, will come to El Paso. These visitors will be going to our local restaurants, hotels, and shops. The city officials are so excited because of the economic boon it will provide the city. These people come to town maybe for the night and then cross the border to go to the US Consulate to renew their visas. Once they cross the border, they will have to surrender their visas and wait until new ones are issued, which could take a few days. It is possible that they will be traveling with family and will leave the family in the United States instead of taking them across the border. Also, there is a strong possibility that the travelers will need parking for the nights they are away. They can walk across the bridge and get to the consulate easily. There is plenty of lodging on the Mexican side. We can offer several parking spaces and not interfere with the motel clients. My hope is that I am able to fill ten to twenty additional rooms per night. In

addition, the motel property is big enough to park fifty cars or so. I would charge twelve dollars a day, which would translate into six hundred dollars per day, or eighteen thousand dollars a month. I would be very happy with half that amount. This kind of activity would be a lifesaver for the motel. If a portion of this expected activity pans out, the additional revenues would increase the value of the motel and provide an excellent retirement income going forward. In addition, I finally will be able to increase my son’s salary. In addition to the estimated seven hundred people coming from the designated states, there are also another estimated eight hundred people coming from Mexico to get visas as well as to work and study in the United States. When they get their visas, they will cross the border into the United States and may need lodging when they cross. The city officials are so excited about this new economic driver that they are promoting the city more than ever. The chamber of commerce is also getting involved and creating special brochures for these potential visitors. Likewise, our Mexican sister city will benefit significantly from the new visitors. I understand that seven new hotels are being built in Juarez, and the city is also doing a promotional campaign. The new expansion will include about seventy-five thousand square feet of office space and garage space for three floors. It will house not only the consulate staff but also the various agencies like FBI, CIA, DHS, and the US Marines. There will be parking but primarily for the staff working there. One of the complaints I have heard is that there will not be much parking for the clients. I’m hoping that we will pick up some of the slack. (I’m debating whether or not I should have a shuttle van to accommodate these customers or just let them take a taxi.) The rehab project will also include housing for some of the senior staff. The construction project has been a big boon for Juarez, as local Mexican unions provided many of the construction workers. Likewise, almost 50 percent of the workers are from the US as part of the agreement with the United States. We have been doing a lot of painting outside the motel and inside the motel rooms. We have been painting the red zone curbs, the fence around the green space area, the outside walls, the sidewalks, and the motel lobby. We also are adding new signs all over the motel (restricted parking signs, video surveillance signs, and five-mile-per-hour signs).

Once I get some extra money, I need to buy several digital flat-screen televisions, add microwaves and small refrigerators, and purchase new pillows, mattresses, and bedsheets. The key for all of this is the extra money. If I can do that, I’m hoping that I can raise the daily rate by another five dollars. Increasing the daily rate can have a significant accumulative effect each month. Many of the current consulate staffers live in El Paso and cross every day back and forth. We are going to try through direct calls or advertising to make the staff aware that our motel is the closest and least expensive for their clients. I bet that the consulate rehab will bail me out of my financial predicament. We will find out soon enough. About two weeks after I told my son all of this, he changed. He wanted to learn everything—from the front desk to the laundry room and everything in between. He started to clean out the laundry room, organize the towels, and wash the towels and linens. He was trying to save time for the housekeeping staff; this would save about an hour or so per day, which is big. He helped fix the two dryers that had not been working for years. He replaced some of the belts and used the three-and-one oil mix. The dryers work great now. One day I was informed that we did not have any working vacuum cleaners. I went ballistic. I had just bought two of them a few months ago. It turns out our housekeeper was not cleaning the canister that held the dirt and dust. She was letting the dirt and dust accumulate, which over time puts stress on the machines and causes the vacuum cleaners to malfunction. This lack of maintenance ended up breaking the belts. I bought new belts, and maintenance cleaned the canisters thoroughly. I now have four vacuum cleaners working fine. Tres said that this attitude change was for him, and he was going to give the motel his best shot to make it successful. I was very pleased that he changed his attitude to a more positive and entrepreneurial one. After all these years of disagreement and arguing—and much sweat and tears—he and I were finally on the same page. We are both waiting for that big ship to come in. That big ship could be the consulate expansion being constructed across the river.

CHAPTER 4

Our Motel Staff and Others

Gustavo

When I bought the motel, it came with Gustavo. He had already logged twenty years with the previous two owners. He was about sixty years old when he started working for me. He was above average in height, very stubborn, and thin as a toothpick. He wore glasses and was a heavy smoker. Gustavo was a very proud man and did not take constructive criticism too well. But he was critical to maintaining the plumbing, electric, swimming pool, and landscaping for the motel. His day started with drinking two cups of coffee, picking up the trash around the motel, and taking the trash to the large bin out back. After the trash, Gustavo started cleaning the pool, which took him about an hour and half. He would use the pool vacuum cleaner to take out all the debris from the water and the filter basket. He seemed to enjoy cleaning the pool because I think he found the water relaxing to look at and work with. He was very proud of his work on the pool. The constant checking of the pH—the balance between acidity and alkalinity— was routine. He was putting in chemicals and chlorine daily. He smoked a pack of cigarettes every day and drank several cups of coffee. He was about seventyfive years old when he got sick with his stomach and retired. I appreciated what he had done on his own, but it was really too much for one man as I learned later. I tried to hire someone to help him, but he did not like it. Gustavo gave the new hires a hard time, and the new hires did not last long and quit. His wife, Ana, also worked at the motel taking care of the laundry duties. She stayed around for

about a year and then left to stay home. She was in her late sixties when she quit. Gustavo was always respectful to me. He complained a lot, but I blame that on his age and the amount of work he had daily. He wore shirts that had two pockets for his cigarettes. I could trust him overall regarding the repairs, but my experience with motel repairs was nonexistent. I was managing the motel on a “learn as you go” basis. I have made a ton of mistakes, and my silent partner was no help. I look back and regret getting mad at Gustavo because the pool was not clear. It was turning green or off color. I know he tried his best, but I know now that there are so many factors that can make a pool turn color, not the least of which are all the palm trees around the pool dropping seeds, branches, and other debris into it. I would get mad if I saw trash on the motel grounds or if some of the bulbs were out on the outside lights. I regret getting mad; I would lose my temper. Nothing crazy, I just would raise my voice a little. As I get older, I realize that getting angry is sometimes necessary but really worthless. There are other ways to vent your frustration without hurting someone. The temper tantrum just means that I struggle to control my emotions, or I can’t communicate effectively to the employees. So my blood pressure rises, and I pop off. I get so disappointed in myself for getting mad. I do that with my son as well, and I hate it. Gustavo was an older man and worked this big motel alone. I respected his knowledge and his commitment to the motel. The motel was barely making it, and I had to put some of my personal money into the business on a monthly basis. If we were making more money, I would have hired another maintenance person to help out Gustavo. But the motel is struggling and basically is breaking even. Certain months are very good like March, April, June, July, August, October, November, and December. The months of January, February, May, and September are the worst and offset any gains I make in the good months. Gustav still comes over every once in a while to say hello to everybody. He looks good, and seems happy and at peace.

Flor

Flor has worked at the motel for over twenty-five years as Gustavo did. She is divorced and has one daughter who is in her senior year at college. She is high strung and street smart. She has a memory that is intimidating. She is loyal, never late, and a conscientious worker. Flor is rough around the edges, but her work ethic and loyalty mitigate the flaws. I trust her completely with the money and bookkeeping. She regularly makes the bank deposits for me. I consider myself very lucky to have her, and I’m grateful for her loyalty and commitment to the motel. She is engaging with her customers and they with her. I usually go by the motel at 6 a.m. before I go to the A office. I spend about thirty to forty-five minutes there doing the paperwork. This has been my routine since I bought the motel. I print out the daily reports for the daily side of the motel and the daily reports for the extended side of it. I discuss with Flor the reports, the day’s schedule, the water meter, problems, housekeeping, etc. I print out the daily reports and look at several things, such as ADR (average daily rate), cash deposits, and credit sales. I am very interested in how many extendedstay customers left or any new ones that we accepted in. We discuss whether we need to order beer or wine or any housekeeping supplies. Weekly, she gives me a list of food supplies I get at Sam’s when the store opens at 7 a.m. on Saturdays. I am very interested in the electric meter readings as well as the water meter readings. If they are too high, I have my son and Antonio, our maintenance man, investigate as to why the meter spiked up. Flor does some of the bookkeeping, which is big help for me when it’s time to give the annual tax return information to the ants. She manages the housekeeping personnel and informs the maintenance group of any complaints from patrons about air conditioners, lights, water, etc.. It has taken us a while to put a good, workable team together. We have weekly meetings with an agenda. This process has helped immensely. I let everybody talk about his or her particular area. We discuss the good and the bad. As an owner, you need to trust people, and they need to trust you. Respect for each other is the key. Having clear processes in place in all areas is just as important. I’m not sure why I feel relaxed in the motel office. I think maybe because the

problems at the motel are not as stressful as at the A firm where I may deal with difficult or narcissistic clients, a wild-card employee, or an irresponsible client who is not making the payments he or she is supposed to. The pressure is at a high level all the time in the ing business. Nobody wants to pay taxes if they can avoid them, especially the big clients. So trying to manage the A business and the motel is almost suicidal. Flor will talk about her daughter and how well she is doing and that she is looking forward to her graduating from college. Flor has a boyfriend who lived on the premise as well. I did not know him very well and did not want to meddle with her personal life unless she wanted to talk about anything. She is in daily with her mother via her cell phone. When she has downtime, she works crossword puzzles. I could get on her for that, but I realize that personal time is invaluable for people to de-stress. It helps her get through the day, and I’m okay with that. She is the happiest drinking coffee and chatting with the clients in the morning during continental breakfast hours. She drinks coffee all day. She makes the best coffee, which I have every morning. Sometimes she is in a bad mood mainly because of her boyfriend, her mother, or a coworker. Every day it seems like there is drama in her life, and again, I think that is how she powers through the day. It takes her hours to unwind and move on. A couple of times she pushed my buttons, and I snapped back, but at the end of the day, we are friends again or boss and coworker. I consider her a very good manager because she is conscientious about handling all of her responsibilities with accuracy. She clearly takes pride in her job, and she looks for recognition. I thank her every day for her loyalty to the job. I have been around long enough to know that if you have a hard worker who has years of experience and is loyal, that person is priceless. Toward the end of 2018, immigration issues were really heating up in the news. I watched the morning news in the lobby, and there was a segment about a caravan originating in Central America and coming through Mexico on its way to the United States. It was a large caravan consisting of about one thousand people, including children. “Hey, Flor, what do you think about the caravan coming?” I asked.

“I hate it,” she responded. “They are going to cross at the border and use all of our insurance and benefits.” “No, they are not, Flor,” I said. “How do you know?” she asked. “Flor, there are border patrol agents that will stop them,” I exclaimed. “What happens if they jump in the river and cross this way?” she asked. “The Mexican government will probably stop them at the border. And if they don’t, the United States probably will. I don’t think many of them will cross the river given all the border agents they just brought over.” We both wanted to change the subject fast, so I asked her if she needed the stored Christmas decorations from the other building. She lit up when I asked the question. She said, “Yes, as soon as possible.” So I went to get them. One thing that Flor likes to do is decorate the lobby according to the season. We’ve had the lobby dressed up with fiesta decorations like sombreros and serapes that we keep in place during the entire year. Over the years Flor has accumulated so much holiday stuff that it is easy for her to spruce up the lobby. She has decorations for Saint Patrick’s Day, Thanksgiving, and of course, Christmas. “Hey, Flor, do you still need more Christmas lights?” I asked. “Yes I do. I probably need about nine boxes of the white lights,” she responded. “Yes, I think they have them at Walmart for about five dollars per box.” “Okay, I’ll get some later this afternoon,” I said. There really were no restaurants near us. The closest restaurant was about six blocks away. Customers were always asking for food, and all we had were chips, sodas, and candy. So I decided to buy some heat lamps and a tray and put out tacos and tamales. I did not want to go through the immense hassle of opening a restaurant, which I could have done with the bar area. That also would have cost a lot of money and time and risk.

No, I decided to experiment and buy tacos and tamales at Stripes, the nearby convenience store/gas station. The gas station was near my house, and I would pick up the tacos at six in the morning and head to the motel. Flor thought it was a great idea. She was very good at selling the tacos and tamales. Our store had a something called the “tailgate” special where you could buy twelve tacos for twelve dollars. Every morning, I would get six bean and cheese tacos, six potato and egg tacos, and twelve chorizo and egg tacos. I bought the tacos for one dollar each, and I would sell them for two dollars. I would buy a dozen tamales for seven dollars and sell a package of three for three dollars. Customers were okay with the prices and liked the tacos and tamales. So I would make about twenty-five dollars net a day, which was okay with me because it gave the customers an alternative to the continental breakfast I was offering. The continental breakfast was basically fruit, coffee, orange juice, cereal, toast/bread, and pastries. Adding the tacos and tamales for breakfast continues to be popular.

Pablo

Pablo has worked at the motel for over twenty years. He is quiet, overweight, and not married. He has a nervous laugh and seemed on edge all the time. He knows everybody, particularly in the barrio district, which has several cantinas and ropa usadas (used clothing stores) of downtown El Paso. Pablo is about forty-five years old and loyal, and he has been with the same woman for about fifteen years. He is off and on with his health. He had some issues with his blood pressure but got it under control. Pablo mainly works the night shift and has a good head on his shoulders. I trust his judgment when it comes to the motel. He calls me regularly to keep me updated with any new extended-stay customers or any problems that come up. Anytime I go to the motel late in the afternoon, Pablo has a bag of several tacos. He gets them from a taqueria close by. He says that the carne guisada tacos are the best. He lives with his dad in a house about a mile from the motel. He is street smart and knows all the policemen and border patrol agents in the area.

This familiarity with law enforcement is invaluable for the motel, as they respect and trust us. They know that we will help them any way we can so they can do their job. Pablo’s mother died from a car accident when he was about fifteen years old. A drunk driver hit her when she was leaving the night shift at a local restaurant. His father and grandmother raised him. He does not talk about his father much but brings him up whenever his father gets sick. When Pablo gets sick, he goes to Juarez to see a doctor there. On the US side, the doctors are expensive and require insurance. Although Pablo has insurance under the Affordable Care Act, he prefers to go across to get the medicines he needs. He had surgery recently, and the doctor in Juarez messed up the procedure, so Pablo had to go to the emergency room in the United States. He was out for five days to recover. The motel does not provide any sick leave. I can’t afford it yet. Pablo also has diabetes and drinks about six sodas a day. He does not smoke and, as far as I know, does no illicit drugs. My son likes Pablo because Pablo is dependable and trustworthy. He is also easy to work with. I worry about him because he is overweight and getting older, and he leads a sedentary lifestyle. Every time I come in to the lobby, he has food on the side. He is always eating something. Pablo has a client base that comes in when he is working. He is quiet and keeps to himself. I pay him about a dollar or so above minimum wage. I can’t wait for things to pick up when the US Consulate opens in a few months so I can pay the staff and my son more than what I’m paying them now. They definitely deserve it if for nothing else than loyalty. I think Pablo will stay with us as long as he wants to and is capable of working. I need him because he works the heavy nights of Friday and Saturday, and I will definitely need him when the US Consulate opens. He also has very good instincts about customers and situations. He can handle situations that get a little hairy involving the police and/or border patrol agents and our customers. He keeps his cool and has experience dealing with law enforcement. Pablo also has experience dealing with unruly customers. He is forceful and won’t hesitate to call the police. Since we are located downtown, the police can show up in minutes. We want the police and other law enforcement “roaming” around the motel. It makes the bad guys think twice about doing anything illegal in our

location.

Antonio

Antonio came in one day to rent an extended-stay room. After about two months or so, he wanted to talk to me about working around the motel. Since I already had someone and was tight on money, I told him no. One day, Tomas, my maintenance guy who came in from across the border every day, could not come to work because his visa had expired, and he had to go back to Veracruz due to a family emergency. When that happened, I called Antonio and hired him immediately. Antonio has worked at the motel for three years. He is the fourth maintenance guy I’ve hired since Gustavo, my first maintenance man, left the motel. He is short and muscular, has been married twice, and is about fifty-five years old. He is an excellent maintenance guy who has saved me a lot of money, and he loves working at the motel. He has issues with Flor because she is so bossy. Antonio has a son who works for the border patrol agency, but they do not talk much. I’m not sure why. However, Antonio is very proud of him and is always bragging about his son. He occasionally does work on my house, fixing odds and ends and even cutting the grass sometimes. He has a calm temperament. He likes to barbecue and drink beer on weekends with his friends. Antonio’s father was not around when he was growing up. His father was a truck driver and apparently had family on the US side and a family on the Mexican side. Antonio grew up with his sister and mother in a poor and rough neighborhood. His mother was a hairdresser and worked at the pulgas (flea markets) on weekends selling tacos to raise money for the family since his dad was not around to them. Antonio ed the army when he was eighteen years old and served for about four years. He worked in the mechanic pool, which is where he picked up his skills. He then worked with several subcontractors doing various work on

residential and commercial projects. He has been a godsend. Antonio is a very good maintenance guy and lives on the premises, which makes it convenient in the event of an emergency. All Star Plumbing is where Antonio bought most of the plumbing supplies because it was family operated and the prices were reasonable. If All Star Plumbing did not have the fixtures, he would go to Lowe’s or Home Depot. They usually would have the material but at twice the price. All Star Plumbing was only about two miles away, so that made it very convenient for Antonio. More importantly, the manager there was extremely knowledgeable and very helpful whenever Antonio had questions. He would reduce the price for us if we bought in quantities. The negative about All Star Plumbing was that since it was family owned, the main owner, Arturo, would not show up until ten o’clock every morning while the Home Depot and Lowe’s stores open at six o’clock. Arturo, who was in his late sixties, was getting ready to retire and seemed to let his inventory run down and not reorder. Arturo had no one else to run his business. He told us that he had been in business for over forty years, and the city had been good to him and his family. He said he would look into selling the real estate, which includes a twenty-thousand-square-foot building on about three acres near a busy intersection. My guess is that he was ready to sell, and he would make a very nice investment profit. He said he had no debt on the property. Arturo did well. The motel has so many plumbing problems. Given its age, we had problems every day. The problems we had were mainly leaking toilets and leaky sink, tub, and shower faucets. Weekly, I had to buy the materials or tools we needed to fix the leaks. If the leaks were serious enough, we had to turn off the water main and basically shut down the entire motel. No one would have water. Whenever that happened, we had to work fast to fix the leaks. We would do the cutoff during the lunch hour when most of the clients were not in their rooms, minimizing complaints. Ricardo, my son, and I would have to jump into action to fix the leaks as quickly as possible. Normally we would get it done within an hour. The key is to have all the materials and supplies ready to go for any emergencies. We don’t actually turn the water off 100 percent because you have

to leave some pressure in the water lines. Once the leaks were fixed, we turned the water back on slowly to build pressure. If you turn it on too fast, it could bust a pipe because of the intense pressure it creates, which then becomes another big problem to address. Then the water has to be turned off for several hours, and the complaints follow. The other issue we would have has to do with the motel’s many wiring problems. It is amazing that we have not had a fire yet, given the age of the wiring that was used over thirty-five years ago. Dealing with electricity is dangerous, even deadly, if not handled properly. If a project were critical, I would call my brother Esteban, who is a master electrician, to help us or guide us with our project. The main problems we had were circuit breakers tripping, lamp switches and outlets not working, and ballasts in the lavatory area that needed replacing, including the forty-eight-inch fluorescent tubes that go into the lamp holder. The ballasts, if needed, were not expensive to buy. Other repairs included replacing glass panes in the windows fixing door locks that would invariably break or wear out, and constantly replacing interior and exterior light bulbs. We have converted almost all light to LED lighting. We did a lot of painting on the outside with high-quality exterior paint and on the interiors of the rooms with beige semigloss paint. We worked on the parking lot, fixing potholes and reinforcing areas to prevent potholes. We regularly paint the parking lot lines yellow and paint the fire areas bright red. We are constantly replacing rotten exterior wood and beams, and fixing leaky roofs. We replaced carpets or shampooed them and patched up holes in the walls. One day I was walking to the office and noticed Antonio was loading paint containers into the storage room. “Hey, Antonio, how is the new paint doing? Is it the right paint? Was the guy able to get it to us for sixty dollars for five gallons?” Antonio replied, “Yes, we paid him the sixty dollars, but the color is a little off from the other paint that we bought at Lowe’s.”

“Let me see the paint,” I said. “Here it is,” Antonio replied as he reached to show me samples of the new paint and the old paint. I then said, “Antonio, the color is off but not that bad. But, when we finish with this paint, let’s go back to the paint from Lowe’s.” Antonio replied, “Yes sir.” Antonio has an older sister named Virginia who cuts hair. She works a block away at a hair salon that she owns. He recommended that I visit her for a haircut. So, on a Saturday, I went to see her. Her salon was inside a large warehouse building that was turned into an air-conditioned pulga or flea market. Her space was small, maybe about twelve feet by twelve feet. She had two benches outside her salon where a few clients were waiting to see her. I decided to stay to see how she cut hair. Her salon was neat and had two barber chairs. She had two large mirrors and gel jars, towels, etc. in an organized position. The best part was that the haircut cost was only six dollars. I left her a tip of two dollars. That is much better than the fourteen dollars that I paid at the other hair salon by the office. So I go there to get my haircut now, except when the line is too long. I like to get my haircut on Saturdays when possible. Antonio is very resourceful, and he does not get too excited about anything. He has saved me thousands and thousands of dollars by fixing the water leaks and repairing items in the various motel rooms. He is quick worker and focused on the job. Recently, I hired another maintenance person to help Antonio with picking up the trash, painting, moving furniture, and making general repairs. This has allowed Antonio to focus on bigger projects like water leaks, electrical problems, and customer complaints.

Roy

“Hey, boss, why don’t you buy more Natural Light beer?” Roy asked me regularly. “That is the beer I like. It doesn’t cost as much, ha-ha.” “Okay, I’ll tell Flor to order some from Glazer’s tomorrow. I’ll order a couple of cases,” I said. We serve beer in the motel lobby along with other snack items. “Hey, boss, did I tell you that my son is playing on the high school soccer team?” he said excitedly. “He is? That’s great … How old is he?” I asked. “He just turned sixteen … He decided to get out of football and play soccer,” Roy stated. “Good, football is too rough, and he will eventually get hurt,” I responded. Roy was a self-employed contractor who came around once a month to do pest control. He was a very nice guy with a good personality to go with his milliondollar smile. Unfortunately, he was a heavy drinker and would have a can of beer whether it was morning, noon, or night. He was street smart and knew a ton of people. His dad had about seven kids who were put to work on his ranch when they were about nine years old. Roy was number three of the seven. Roy’s family was known to be hardworking and had a good reputation among the farming and ranching community. I never saw him mad. He had a calm disposition every time I was with him. He had a contagious laugh that made you like him right away. He seemed to have a permanent smile and a desire to make you happy. Roy had rented a room from me as well. I would give him credit for the rent for any work he did around the motel. He would spray for roaches or trap mice. Unfortunately, he would smell like chemicals if you were around him. He was a pest control guy who had many customers and primarily worked alone. I don’t know where he got his chemicals. His family had been farmers for years, and he felt very comfortable around tractors, cattle, pesticides, and beer. Roy had a twenty-year-old, dark-green Chevy Model 1500 truck. It had all kinds of bumps and bruises with a cracked front window. Whenever he drove it, he

would have the window down since the AC did not work, and his left arm would be hanging down the side of the door. He looked relaxed driving. Again, Roy was an easygoing guy. One morning, I got a call from the motel manager that Roy was rushed to the hospital. Later that evening after work, I went to visit him. I walked into the hospital room and saw him lying on the bed watching TV. His sister from Dallas was at his bedside. “Hey, Roy, what happened? What are you doing here, buddy? You are supposed to be at work!” I said jokingly. “Well, boss, they tell me that I am having problems with my liver; they are trying to fix it,” he responded while adjusting himself on the hospital bed. “Boss, this is my sister Diana … She came in last night from Dallas,” he added. “Hello, Diana, glad to meet you. How are you doing? Roy talks about you all the time,” I said as I shook her hand. “I’m doing fine, thank you. So you are Roy’s boss?” she asked. “I think Roy is the boss! I can’t do anything without him. He has helped me tremendously. He has helped me with the plumbing problems, the roof, the air conditioners, and the pest control,” I exclaimed. Diana and Roy smiled at me. It was true that Roy was invaluable to the motel and me. I was very sad to see him stretched out on the bed with tubes everywhere. He looked tired and worried. Diana was married and well off. She had a successful real estate brokerage business in Dallas. Roy was very proud of her and always talked about her. She would send money and pay for plane tickets for Roy to visit her, and she would let Roy use the condos that they had in Ruidoso, New Mexico, during the summer or winter. Roy was legally married but most of the time stayed at the motel. He had a son, Roy Jr., in high school. His wife, who was a Realtor, would come around every once in a while. She lived on a half-acre ranchette outside the city limits that she and Roy owned. She was a nice lady; I just never understood the relationship.

Roy ed shortly after my visit to the hospital. I went to rosary but could not attend his funeral. I cried at the rosary because I liked Roy very much. He made me feel inferior as a human being with his humility, his love for life, and his unconditional friendship. He was fifty-five years old, and I miss him daily. We all miss him because he was funny and would light up our days with his jokes. We bring up his name at the motel frequently. Roy died from a severe case of sclerosis of the liver. He will be sorely missed. He left a wife and a teenage son and easily a thousand friends.

Gilbert

Gilbert was Roy’s cousin. He looked like Roy in height, stomach size, and facial expressions, and he was a very good handyman. Both were down-to-earth guys. Roy brought him around the motel to help out with plumbing and electrical issues. His fees were very reasonable. Gilbert was a big help around the motel. He was low-key and seemed happy-go-lucky. He wore jeans all the time and short-sleeve shirts with pockets, and he enjoyed beer. He was good at painting, plumbing, and repairing sheetrock. To keep costs low at the motel, I would pick up anybody who could work on the repairs at a good price. If he was related to our staff, all the better because if anything went wrong, we knew we could go to the referral source to help fix the problem. One day, I wanted to paint the front and side of the motel. Gilbert was going to lead the project with one of his employees. I had bought quality exterior paint at a good price and was eager to put it on the front of the building. It is amazing what a little paint can do to a house or a commercial building. It basically brings the building back to life. I told Gilbert to be careful with the red-tipped photinias along the side of the front portion of the building where the lobby was located. They were planted when the motel was constructed over twenty years ago. These beautiful plants are expensive to buy and take years to get full and tall.

They were using a ladder to reach the high areas of the building. The problem was that the plants were so full and wide that it was difficult to get the ladder at a certain angle where the painter would be comfortable reaching the upper area. “Hey, Gilbert, how’s it going?” I asked. “Aw, it’s pretty good. The color is little off, but it will work,” he responded. As I continued to look at the paint job and the wall, I noticed that a big photinia was missing from the side. “Hey, Gilbert, what happened to the bush that was here?” I asked nervously. “I had to cut it down because we could not get the ladder in the right position,” he said. “Gilbert, do you know how long it took to grow that bush? It’s a red tip!” I said in anger. “It took probably five years to get to that height. Now it’s all gone, shit!” “Sorry, boss! I needed to move it to get to the painting,” Gilbert said. I was furious. Unfortunately, Flor and Roy were present when I was talking to Gilbert. I embarrassed Gilbert, and I regret that. My temper got the best of me. I know about these plants and how much money and time it takes to grow and nurture them. In a matter of minutes, the twenty-year-old bush was gone, and there now was a gaping hole. I calmed down and said, “It’s okay, Gilbert. No problem. Don’t worry about it. I can get some new ones.” Of course the damage was done to the bushes and to my relationship with Gilbert. Roy told me later that Gilbert felt bad cutting down the bushes and was upset that I got mad at him. I told Roy to tell Gilbert not to worry about it. I was not mad. As it went, I never saw Gilbert again. I called several times to have him help us with some plumbing repairs, but he never answered. I see him occasionally on Facebook with pictures of him and his girlfriend. The last one was a picture of him with the beach and the gulf behind him, and he had the biggest smile I have

ever seen on him. I’m very happy for him. Roy would be happy for him as well.

Big Santa

Santa was our housekeeper and came with the motel. I think she was not quite five feet tall and chubby. She could not speak English but was easygoing. She rented a room from me but also had a residence in Juarez. She was a good housekeeper with many family issues. Her husband was a bum, and she ed the family with her housekeeping wages. It was starting to take at least two hours to cross the bridges from Juarez to El Paso, so Santa would come in around eleven o’clock every day. We had been trying for years to get her to come in earlier, but she was unable to do so because of her other commitments and the time it took to cross the bridges. I didn’t want to press it since it was not a big problem for us. Whenever we had less than five rooms rented, we would not call Santa to come in. She was on her cell phone a lot, and I would tell Flor to tell her to focus on the job and get off the phone. She would do a good job cleaning the rooms and was fast, so I did not complain too much. The regulars and the old-timers knew her and liked the way she cleaned the rooms. She used a lot of Clorox to clean the bathrooms and used Fabuloso and Lemon Pledge to clean the rooms. She also vacuumed thoroughly. Average vacuum cleaners don’t last long in this business. I buy about three new vacuum cleaners a year. We noticed that she was driving a van early one morning and had several kids with her. She did not own a van. We noticed that she took the kids to her room. Apparently, she was bringing the kids from Juarez to attend the elementary schools in El Paso. I told her that she could not do that here because of the risk to the motel if the school district authorities investigated. She stopped the transportation the next day. It had been obvious for a long time that Santa was the breadwinner for the family since her husband did not have stable employment. I tolerated several of

her flaws like being late or absent and her questionable attitude. My son caught her washing her family’s clothes using the motel’s washer and driver. Unacceptable! Since my son caught her, she has stopped washing her clothes. Not sure why she thought she would get away with it. As I mentioned earlier, another problem we would have with housekeeping is with the vacuum cleaners. We would have one for the top floor and another one for the bottom. However, for a while, it seemed that I was buying a new vacuum cleaner every four months. The vacuums cost about eighty dollars each. I asked my son to look into the problem. It turned out that two of the belts were torn, and one had a torn electric cord. I bought two belts from Walmart to fix the two vacuum cleaners, and Antonio got the electric cord taped up on the third. Now we have three vacuum cleaners working. The main problem was that Santa was not emptying the dust bucket at the end of the day. She was cleaning rooms with the bucket full of dirt/dust. This was putting a lot of strain on the machines and causing the belts to bust. However, Santa is overall a loyal employee who has been working with us for over eleven years, and she does a very good job of cleaning the rooms. She gets paid minimum wage. At some point, and hopefully soon, I will have to hire another housekeeping employee to help her. This will enhance the workflow and mitigate any problems we may have in the future with Santa. We interviewed a lady who stays with us and is carrying for her son who is in elementary school. I think we will hire her and have her work hours to pay for her room, which she is agreeable to. This will help her, the motel, and Santa. Santa works enough hours to pay for her room, for which I charge her three hundred dollars per month. Apparently, she does not stay in the room, but her seventeen-year-old son does since he goes to a high school here in El Paso. The kid does not cause any trouble, but it still makes us feel uncomfortable because he’s young with minimal supervision.

Little Santa

Little Santa was Big Santa’s only daughter and started working with us about two years ago. She had just graduated from the local university but could not find a job. I think she was about twenty-five years old. She was intelligent and very nice. She spoke softly and was very cordial when talking to me. I gained a lot of confidence in her abilities. She worked with us as a housekeeper and also at the front desk checking in clients. She was computer savvy and helped me with social media advertising for the motel. Unfortunately, like her mother, she had family problems with her husband, Raul. He was a ed sex offender and had lied on his application to get a room. We found out from another client who knew Raul. I did not want to know any details, but I had to get them out of the motel. He would hang out around the motel during the day, and my son was sure to make him understand that we were watching him. In the short run, I needed Little Santa, but in the midrun we needed to get them out. So we told her one day that we could not let her husband stay at the motel any longer. They got upset, but it was not negotiable. Little Santa tried to explain several times to me that her husband was identified by accident. I did not really care if it was an accident. His name and address were on a registry, which is public information. That type of information could hurt a business like mine significantly. It could do irreparable damage to the motel’s reputation. I was always worried about Little Santa. Although she graduated with a degree in business, she could not find a job that was related to her degree. She had a three-year-old daughter, and she was trying to raise a family the proper way. Little Santa was willing to help out with whatever I asked her to do. Her loser husband did not have a job because of his criminal record. He would spend his time outside his room sitting on a chair and smoking a cigarette. He would do that almost all day—just sit and watch everybody else walking around, parking their cars, or going into their rooms. He was just kind of creepy. I was concerned that he might be dealing drugs. “Santa, I have been meaning to talk to you,” I said. “Yes sir?” she responded. “You know we told Mr. Feria to leave the motel because he was a ed sex

offender, right?” I said. “Yes,” she replied. “Well, we found out that your husband is also,” I said. “Yes, but it was not his fault. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time,” she responded. “Look, Santa, I don’t care what really happened. I know he is your husband, and you are standing up for him. I respect that. The main thing is that he on this public registry that lists his name and the address of the motel. I can’t have that. It could be affecting our business. Women won’t feel comfortable staying here,” I said firmly. “Students won’t want to stay with us either if they know we have sex offenders at the motel.” I gave Santa and her husband thirty days to pack their things and move on. She was upset and pleaded with me to let them stay. “Santa, I said I can’t. I have received several complaints about your husband just hanging around outside smoking and looking suspicious. I’m very, very nervous about keeping him around. It has nothing to do with you. I hope you understand.” It took them about forty-five days to finally move out. They were having a hard time, according to Flor, finding an apartment or any type of housing. I’m sure it had to do with the public record that was out there on Little Santa’s husband. To accommodate them, I did not charge rent for the last fifteen days they were with us. They were happy with my forbearance, and I was happy to finally get them out of the motel.

Eddie

Eddie was JP’s friend. He was about fifty-five years old when I met him. He had been a successful engineer in Juarez with his own firm. He had been involved

with several respectable projects there and was one of the top ten or so civil engineers in Juarez. He lost most of his company and financial wherewithal when his wife divorced him. Eddie was a heavy drinker, smoker, and womanizer, and he rented a room from us for several months. I accommodated Eddie because of JP. They were high school and college buddies. He turned out to be heavy maintenance, and nobody liked him when he was drunk. Without alcohol, he was the nicest and smartest guy. Eddie also had issues with his oldest son, a handsome teenager who went to the local Catholic high school. Unfortunately, his son got into the wrong crowd and started doing drugs, and he became a source of pain for Eddie. He was devoted to his son but did not have enough money to help him because of the recent divorce. His ex-wife had a powerful father who was a judge in Juarez. Eddie was cleaned out. It was a shame to seen him wearing suits one day and blue jeans with short-sleeve shirts the next, with much longer hair and an unkempt beard. Eddie was changing into another man. When his wife divorced him, he lost many of his friends and acquaintances. He was shunned from many social circles, and his financial condition was deteriorating fast. His ex-wife’s family had money, and Eddie had been milking it while they were married. Now he had to pay the piper. It appeared to me that Eddie had gone through the divorce because of his infidelity and lack of money. He was an electrical engineer who was doing very well for years and had a good reputation. He was a long-time friend of JP. JP asked me if Eddie could get an extended stay with us. I said no problem, but what was his source of income? You could tell he was in a lot of pain with his son’s problems, the divorce, and losing his company. I would see him frequently at the local church we attended. I always wondered how he could be this wild card and exhibit very un-Christian behavior, and then we’d see him in church praying earnestly. I prayed for him. He was a very confused person. Unfortunately, he would argue with the staff because he wanted certain things done. He always complained about the internet and the air conditioning. We had a computer in the lobby for the guests to use. Eddie would camp out in front of it

most of the afternoon. He would talk to himself while using the internet and ask questions of the manager on duty, sucking up their time as well. It was a huge distraction for customers and the staff working the lobby. We would tell him that he could spend no more than twenty minutes at the computer, but he would not listen. So one day my son took out the computer, and that was it. No more Eddie in the lobby He treated the staff and maintenance personnel as if they were at his beck and call. He argued with my son, who did not like the loud music Eddie would play in his room. After about four months of staying with us, I asked Eddie to leave. I had many talks with him and had personally given him several chances to clean up his act. The staff would get mad at me when I allowed him to stay. He would be fine for about a week, and then the drama would start again. He would get into an argument with staff or a customer, or he would wander the motel grounds drunk. Or maybe he was hitting on one of the guests. I always felt he would turn it around. He was an intellectual type of guy with poor judgment. I liked Eddie and felt sorry for him. I knew what he had been before versus what he was now. Staying monthly in a motel room was low compared to his previous life. He was a troublemaker and a slow-paying client. It was not worth it to keep him as a client. He was too high maintenance for the motel and the staff. It’s been three years since Eddie left the motel, and no one has heard anything about him. I hope he improved his financial and family life.

Dr. Burns, the Dentist

Dr. Burns had been a dentist for many years in downtown El Paso. I first met him when he was about fifty years old. A good friend of mine introduced me to him. Dr. Burns never married but had many girlfriends. He was a handsome guy, about five foot ten, with brownish hair and light blue eyes, and he was

disgustingly fit. He was into working out frequently. He was a big promoter of resveratrol and krill oil, heart supplements. One time he must have spent thirty minutes telling me about the benefits of krill oil and how it would reduce the risk of heart disease. He swore that omega-3 fatty acids really made you feel better and extended your life. He said they would improve your life and reduce the risk of coronary heart disease. Dr. Burns had a beautiful, large older house with a small pond and large pecan trees. He had a fairly good reputation in the community from what I . He was on various civic boards and volunteered his time during the annual city marathon. He was not my dentist, but I had several friends who went to him. As mentioned, he had several girlfriends at one time. There was one girlfriend, a hooker, who was special to him, and she wanted a commitment or else. He bought her a car, gave her money for her ten-year-old daughter, and provided her with an apartment. He desperately tried to get her to live with him at his fourthousand-square-foot home. It had about four bedrooms and three baths, with a large yard and a swimming pool. Because she had a daughter, this woman was looking for lifetime and not just a sugar daddy. She had been with him for over two years. She was asking for a commitment, and for some reason he did not want to commit yet, so one day she left the city without notice. She never came back, and it broke his heart and irreparably changed him. He started drinking heavily and using drugs. Soon after his girlfriend left, the bank foreclosed on his house. He was seriously past due on his property taxes and note payments. He ended up losing his dental license due to many complaints regarding his conviction from drug use. He lost many friends as well. No one wanted to him, except one of his closest friends. The friend helped by giving him some money to live on for about six months. Dr. Burns stayed with us at the motel for about three months, and his friend paid the rent. The friend told the manager to call him when the rent was due, and he would put it on his card. The doctor pretty much kept to himself. The manager would see him leave the room and come back after about an hour or so with a bag of groceries. He did not have a car and apparently walked everywhere.

One day we got a call from his friend that he would not be paying the monthly rent anymore. At the end of the month, Dr. Burns came to the lobby, turned in his key, and checked out. We never saw him again. Rumor is that he went to Juarez, Mexico, to practice dentistry there. I’m not sure what kind of dental practice one could have in Mexico, but I think more than anything it was an escape from the girl he was crazy about. It has been over a year, and still no one has heard anything about Dr. Burns. He had accumulated a lot of friends over the years who cared for him, but no one could really help him. He had to get out of his troubles on his own.

California Investor

A California investor named Bill came by the motel one day. He was interested in buying the motel and other properties within five city blocks to convert the area into a riverwalk project. He explained that he wanted to convert these properties into a large-scale, mixed-use urban development. The emphasis would be to create a culture district to include an open-air performing arts park. The key to part of the project’s success was to get the area designated as a tax increment reinvestment zone (TIRZ). A TIRZ is a way for a municipality to finance the cost of redevelopment and promote the growth of an area that would encourage investment. The promoter would pay 100 percent of the cost of development. Basically, the program gives investors a break on property taxes for many years, and they can receive income from future taxes that other property owners would pay. Bill had some success with the cost of the project construction, including building roads and other infrastructure improvements. The promoter would be reimbursed for the infrastructure costs by a percentage of the tax revenues generated within the TIRZ over a twenty-five-year period. There is a similar project along the river in Laredo, Texas. That project has had positive results and has been an economic boost for the city’s downtown area.

The project in El Paso would involve about twenty acres along the river and include a two-hundred-room hotel, various shops, restaurants, and plenty of parking. This was an enticing concept but certainly came with risks and opportunities. Bill was an attorney who ended up getting into the real estate game. He dressed smartly and was a fast talker, and he knew the development game. He was too aggressive for my taste and almost fearless. He was an eternal optimist and had strong visions of what could transpire along the Rio Grande and what it would do for downtown El Paso and the city as a whole. His project would be part of a downtown revitalization. The mayor and the city council were salivating over the idea of all of the potential money coming into the tired downtown area. The downtown was made up of many mom-and-pop stores, along with several county and city offices, the police department, numerous Mexican restaurants, and many budget jewelry and perfume stores. It was not much to offer your usual mall and big-box shopper. The project, from my standpoint, was very aggressive and needed approval from so many government agencies. It also involved moving part of the border fence that was already standing. The project would take about five to ten years to fully develop, and it would cost nearly $200 million once completed. At the end of the day, the project was good for the city and urban renewal. It would bring more people to the downtown area and could possibly be a big financial shot in the arm for the motel. At least the motel would get a lot of exposure that it did not have presently. When Bill arrived at the motel that afternoon, I met him in the motel lobby. “Are you Manolo?” Bill asked. “Yes I am,” I said as I shook his hand. Bill was with Tom Wallace, who I knew as a friend of one of my ing clients. “My name is Bill, and I want to talk to you about your place here,” he said firmly. “Sure, Tom told me that you would be coming by. What can I do for you?” I asked.

“Tell me about your place here,” Bill responded. “Well, I have owned it for more than seven years, and the motel has seventy-five rooms and sits on two acres. I use about thirty rooms as extended-stay rooms, and the remainder are for motel guests,” I replied. Bill asked, “When was it constructed?” “I think around 1977 … The foundation is solid, and the roof is still in good shape. The building was made to last by the original owner. Bill, why are you interested in the motel?” I asked. “Well, I have had success with a redevelopment project in Laredo, Texas, and I want to duplicate the project here in El Paso. My interest is a riverwalk concept where you have restaurants, shops, basically retail businesses. I think El Paso would be perfect for this. I have an interest in your place so I can include it in my overall design package,” he explained. “Bill, what were you looking at paying?” I asked. “Well, I was looking at paying off your note, plus three hundred thousand dollars,” Bill said. “Hmm, I’m not ready to sell just yet, but I might be in a few years. I would like to get the note down some more and wait to see how the US Consulate thing works out,” I said. “I understand. Here is my card and my number, and I’ll call you in a week. I have a plane to catch in about an hour, so I need to go to the airport. It was good talking to you,” Bill said. “Okay, very good. Thanks for your time,” I said, and we all shook hands. He left with Tom in Tom’s red Ford truck. He called me a week later as he’d said, but I told him that I was not interested right now. I wanted to see what impact the US Consulate would have on the motel first.

CHAPTER 5

Taxing Situation

Federal law requires that an employer withhold taxes from his or her employees’ pay. Each time I pay wages, I must withhold certain amounts for federal income taxes, Social Security, and Medicare tax. Employers are required to fill out forms on a quarterly basis and make deposits via the Electronic Federal Transmitting Payment System (EFTPS). Although I am an ant and understand the 941 requirements, I don’t specialize in this area of ing. Nevertheless, I unfortunately got behind sending in the quarterly reports and making the deposits in a timely manner. I got behind about eighteen months while I was putting out fires in the motel. I had severe problems with some roof repairs and water leaks that cost me all my profits for about six months and required me to put in money from my savings and from my earnings at my A practice. One day, I went home in the evening, and there was a red certified card on my door. I knew it was coming, and sure enough this was the day. The next day I took the card to the post office to pick up the certified letter from the IRS. It was five pages long and detailed all the dates where reports were missing and an estimated amount plus interest and penalties. It was well over seventy-five thousand dollars. My mind was racing, and my heart was beating hard. What should I do? I had no money, and I was not going to get a loan because my credit was not the best. The letter also included details about Civil Money Penalties (CMPs). These penalties are charged because of lack of compliance as a deterrent to not do it again. In addition, the assessed civil money penalties are reported to the three credit bureaus. I was screwed, but it was no surprise. The only good news was that the payments you make on the normal deposits due are offset against the civil money penalties. Since there was intense pressure to get this resolved, I hired a A firm that specialized in working with the IRS on such matters on a

daily basis. The IRS sent a courtesy letter to the bank, the first lienholder on the motel property, explaining that I was in arrears on my 941 and 940 payments. Technically, that triggered a default per the bank’s loan agreement with my company. So things were getting very rough quickly. I could not sleep at night for a long time knowing this was hanging over my head. Of course, I had to share this with my wife, as she signed on the bank loan note and was liable as well, and the CMPs showed up on her credit report. It put a strain on the marriage as one can imagine. She was furious with me. The letter gave me a number of an IRS agent whom I had to call within ten days of the date on the letter and set up an appointment. I was so upset and told myself to not panic and to find a solution. I wanted to go into business, right? And make all this money? I started thinking about borrowing the money from friends, selling the motel, or working out some reasonable repayment program to the IRS. I had to work on gathering all the reports that were missing and provide them to the agent when I met with him. I was terrified and embarrassed to call him and discuss my situation, but I had no choice. I took a couple of days to review the letter carefully and study the amounts that were on the pages. I had no money to speak of, and the letter also stated that the IRS would file a lien against the motel property. If it did file a lien, I would certainly have the bank, the first lienholder, after me because I would have violated one of the bank loan covenants. I got a certified letter almost every week from the IRS basically stating the same amounts and my rights as a taxpayer. I called IRS Agent Jimenez on a Wednesday morning and left a voice message, as he did not answer my call. He called me the next morning. He was cold and unfriendly and not interested in any of my reasons for not paying. I felt very uncomfortable and fearful. We set up a meeting for the following Tuesday at his office. I spent the entire weekend going through my files and gathering whatever information I expected he would want. I had sales numbers, payroll numbers, payroll records, etc. I have made a career of helping people with their taxes, and

here I was in trouble for not paying the IRS business taxes. Why did I buy the motel? I thought I was going to get rich! I got to his office at ten o’clock on Tuesday morning. The office was in a strip mall on a busy thoroughfare. It was a large office with about forty people already sitting on folding chairs with a number, waiting to be served by an IRS employee. As you walk into the IRS office, there is a guard who greets you immediately and asks you to check in by writing your name, time, and who you are there to see on a sheet in a big black binder. Then he asks you what you are there for. I told him I was here to see Agent Jimenez. I did not have to take a number. He escorted me to another door in a separate, much smaller room. There were only two other people sitting and waiting for an IRS agent. I got more nervous. The guard told me to use the phone on the wall to Jimenez. As I looked at that phone, it had five different names with extension numbers on the side. I found Jimenez’s number: 1478. I dialed it, and a deep voice answered, “Jimenez here!” “Yes sir, this is Manolo Martinez for our ten o’clock appointment.” He said he was helping another customer, and he would come and get me when he was through. I went back to my gray metal folding chair by the window. I decided to review my notes and try to calm down. The wait was nerve racking. I have never felt like that. I had waited a total of forty-five minutes by the time he came through the door asking for me. He escorted me through another door that led to his office, which was rather compact. Paperwork and governmental binders filled the bookshelves. He had paperwork on his desk. He asked me to take a seat. He reached over to pull a green file that had the name of the motel and my name on it. “I have been trying to get ahold of you, Mr. Martinez, by calling the motel several times. Did they not tell you I called?” he asked. “No sir, they did they not. They are pretty good about giving me messages. I apologize,” I stated. “Well, I decided to go by your house and leave you the certified letter. I’m glad you responded quickly,” Jimenez said.

“Yes sir,” I said. “Well, as the letter states, you are seriously delinquent on your 941 and 940 taxes and seriously delinquent in report submissions. You are supposed to send in the required reports on a quarterly basis and go online via the EFTPS system and submit your quarterly payments as well. Why did you not do that?” he asked. “Well, Mr. Jimenez, I had to put out other fires like my roof leaking and the washers and dryers not working—” I started to say. “None of that matters to me, Mr. Martinez. As a consequence we have added penalties, and interest, and assessed civil money penalties as a result of your noncompliance. We will need you to make these payments totaling seventy-five thousand dollars within ten days, or I will have to initiate seizure proceedings. Can you make the total payment of seventy-five thousand dollars?” he asked. He put the paper down and looked at me. Did he just say seventy-five thousand dollars? There was no way I could do that. I thought I might out, but I took a deep breath and gripped my pen harder. “Mr. Jimenez, I cannot. I can make a ten-thousand-dollar payment and pay the rest over time,” I responded. “I’m not sure I can agree to that considering that we are talking several years of nonreporting and nonpayments. So you have ten days to make the payment. Thank you very much for coming in, and I expect to hear from you soon, Mr. Martinez,” he said dryly. “Thank you, Mr. Jimenez, for your help. I’ll work on getting back to you with the completed forms that you need within the ten days,” I said. I was upset. It’s true what they say about the IRS. They want to collect and don’t care if they ruin your life in the process. I was in serious trouble and did not know what to do. Where was I going to find another forty thousand dollars in ten days? A good friend of mine recommended a A who specialized in dealing with the IRS in matters like these. I called the A firm and talked to Bob West. I set up an appointment with him the next day to discuss my situation.

At the meeting, Bob gave me some hope that we probably could work out something with the IRS if I could come up with at least ten thousand dollars to pay the IRS right now. I had about six thousand dollars and borrowed the rest by overdrawing several of my s. Bob ended up talking with the IRS agent, and he was right; the IRS would accept the ten thousand dollars and give me four months to pay the rest. In the meantime, I pushed hard to sell the restaurant building that aded the motel. When the IRS problem came up, I had started to think about this possibility. I sat up all night trying to think of a way to come up with the money to pay the IRS. The only thing I could think of was to sell the restaurant. And there was only one person who could maybe buy it: Miguel. I met Miguel shortly after I bought the motel. Since the motel leased out the adjacent restaurant, I got to meet many new people, including Miguel. I went there frequently during lunch for the crispy tacos and on Saturdays for the breakfast of bean and cheese tacos and menudo. We became friends very quickly, as we had a lot in common and mutual friends. Miguel’s family life was little cryptic. He had only a brother who was an engineer in Houston. I got the impression that they were not close. He would not talk much about him. There were no discussions about family visits for the summer or holidays. Both his parents had ed. He did not talk much about them either. Miguel had never been married and did not have a girlfriend as long as I knew him. He did, however, have a girlfriend at one time. Veronica worked with him at one of his apartments as the manager. It lasted about three months, and then they parted ways. Something about an old boyfriend coming back into the picture. Miguel bought her jewelry and a nice used car and allowed her to stay in the apartments free. He was very depressed when he found out that she was seeing her old boyfriend again. We enjoyed joking with each other whenever we met. He really liked going to this particular seafood restaurant that had the best ceviche and shrimp soup in town. The restaurant was small but had enough parking most of the time. It had wooden tables and chairs with fishnets all over the inside of the restaurant. Well into my fourth year of owning the motel, I told Miguel about my dilemma

with the IRS. I was a couple years’ behind on paying the motel’s payroll taxes. The IRS was aggressively going after me and the property. I told him that I did not know what to do. I owed over fifty thousand dollars and had to do something fast. An idea came to me that I should try to sell the restaurant. It was a popular restaurant that had been around for years and had a good client base. I was getting about two thousand dollars a month for rent. But it did not include taxes or insurance. Miguel said that he might be interested. He needed to think about it though. After several weeks, I pressured him into buying the restaurant. He was a frequent customer like I was, so he knew the amount of business the restaurant was doing. After negotiating for several weeks, Miguel bought the restaurant next door at a little over market. I was desperate to sell because I was getting a lot of pressure not only from the IRS but also from the bank. Selling the restaurant was a great way to cover that liability. This was a lifesaving event for me. I was very lucky that Miguel was in the picture. Miguel was not married, and his ion was real estate investments. He started working with Target and Walmart, buying their damaged and discontinued merchandise by the pallet. He would store it in a warehouse and sell it by the pallet load to mainly Mexican customers. They would the take the pallets back to the interior of Mexico and resell the merchandise, separately of course, at a higher mark-up with the hope of a profit. The Mexicans would have to cross the international bridge hauling these pallets on trailers or trucks. They would face challenges with Mexican customs and Mexican police, as well as the general harassment from the malos (bad guys). Many times they would have to pay a “quota” or fee to these groups to get through. According to Miquel, many of his customers stopped coming because it wasn’t worth the financial risk. The violent activity across the border was starting to hurt Miguel’s business, so he gave up buying pallets and cleaned out his warehouse, fixed it up, and turned it into an event center where he would focus on monthly arts and crafts festivals. He was always looking for the next deal. Miguel focused primarily on downtown real estate and surrounding property. He looked for depressed properties, rehabbed them, and subsequently rented them out. He was very good at this and had a good reputation around town. He had a construction crew—not

sure if they were all legal—that was very good and would rehab his properties at below-market costs. He wanted stable monthly lease income. That was his ultimate goal. He was about forty years old when I met him. He had a good sense of humor and a quick wit. He wore glasses and drove a very nice black Lexus 450. He had a lot of equity in his properties that he built up over time, but he did not want to cash in right now. He was your classic bottom feeder looking for bargain-basement prices. I went to visit him one day at his office, which was located in a large storage warehouse on the south side of town near the border. “You know, Manolo, I called the bank today to ask for my loan balances. I call all the time, and they know me since I have been banking there for years,” Miguel said. “Okay,” I responded. “Then they asked me, for verification purposes, what the amounts of my last three deposits were. How messed up is that? I said, ‘Brenda, it is me, Miguel. I call you all the time,’” he cried. “She said, ‘I know, Mr. Simmons, but I have to ask these questions for security purposes.’ “‘Well then, I said, why don’t you ask me the last four digits of my Social Security number? That’s easier. I don’t know what my last three deposits were.’” He started to laugh with frustration. I started to laugh, too. “Miguel, you know how banks are nowadays … They have gotten real strict with all this scamming and identity theft going on.” “I know, but it is frustrating,” Miguel responded. For a long time, Miguel was interested in buying the motel, but he wanted to pay me about 80 percent of what I bought it for. Almost every time I visited with him he would bring it up. Miguel really helped out by buying the restaurant. I am indebted to him for that purchase. Now we are talking about me buying the property back. However, since it is thirty-five hundred square feet, I am thinking about splitting the

building into three separate spaces and have a mini retail center. I can have a small restaurant and two retail or office spaces. I have plenty of parking for the area. Miguel has owned the restaurant (now a metal shell with no roof) for several years but has done nothing with it except gut it. He took off the old roof and removed all of the windows, the flooring, etc. Basically, it is a shell ready for rehabilitation. Miguel owned a separate large building next door to the restaurant property. It used to be a warehouse that was a wholesale business for plastic flowers and home decorations and furnishings. It was very popular for years but closed because of all the competition that was developing on the north side of town. The owners were of Chinese descent and were getting into their sixties. Their two daughters went to out-of-state colleges and never came back after graduation. They did not want anything to do with the business, according to Mr. Wong. Eventually, the property was foreclosed on and sat vacant for a couple of years. The bank was asking too much for it and did not want to budge on the price. Eventually, a new manager at the bank lowered the price considerably, and Miguel bought it for three hundred thousand dollars, versus the eight hundred thousand dollars the bank wanted previously. The warehouse was about forty thousand square feet and had an open floor plan. There were no partitions. Miguel’s idea was to remodel the place and create an indoor flea market. His design would create spaces that were four hundred square feet and rent those spaces to vendors for five hundred dollars a month. He itted that he got the idea from my motel business model for an extended-stay program. He was able to develop about eighty spaces. He spent about two hundred thousand dollars to implement all the improvements according to city code. He installed a new sprinkler system and rehabbed the plumbing and electrical systems. He also painted the exterior a light brown and the interior an antique white, and he put up attractive signage on all sides of the building. Miguel had a difficult time with the city inspectors because they wanted him to spend a lot of money on a professional design package that would have involved several engineers and an architect. It would have cost him about thirty thousand dollars. He refused to do it, and the city delayed his work. City inspectors said that he was violating the city code and would get fined.

Miguel went up the ladder and complained to the city manager, whom he knew well, and the city ultimately backed off on some of the requirements, including the design package. He finally opened up and had about fifty tenants at the beginning. He was doing very well by all s. There had been an indoor flea market about half a mile away that had closed down because of a change in ownership. So most of those clients moved over to Miguel’s place and were happy with the relocation. Most of the tenants sold all types of clothing, jewelry, shoes, and home accessories. There were also several hair salons, a photography studio, shirt printing, and hat sales. The place would be very busy on weekends. But tenants and customers complained that the City Flea Market had no eating establishment inside. Parking was limited as well. Miguel tried to put a restaurant together, but the city’s code requirements were so restrictive and would be so expensive to implement that Miguel gave up on the restaurant idea. The flea market was only open from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Thursdays through Sundays. During the summer months, it was an ideal way to spend time inside. After about six months or so, it was announced that the old flea market was going to open again. The new owner had remodeled it. The place used to be a Walmart store, and there was plenty of parking. The price per space was four hundred dollars for the entire month, not just for weekends like Miguel’s flea market. The old flea market would be open every day and had a restaurant inside. About half of Miguel’s tenants packed up and moved back to the old flea market. Miguel was devastated and was not sure what he was going to do. Fortunately for Miguel, he had other income-producing properties that could cover any cash shortfall he would experience due to losing tenants at the flea market. But of course that’s not a sustainable business model because you drain the other profitable businesses. For financing, he would get some hard moneylenders to loan him money for about a year, and then he would refinance with a local bank and pay them off. He had a group of about six investors that he would rotate with, depending on the project and the appetite of the investor. Then he would find another property and do it again. My estimate is that he probably accumulated over $15 million in assets, based on market value, but at a cost of about 40 percent of that, or $6

million, leaving an equity of about $9 million. Not bad. After the rehab was done, he started leasing at market prices and got to about 80 percent or better in occupancy, and the value of the property magically would go up based on net operating income and the going market capitalization rate. Miguel developed a lot of equity with his projects, but interestingly enough, he did not have a lot of cash on hand because he was always investing in new projects. It was an obsession of his, a ion that he could not stop. He had several apartment complexes—one an old Walmart building, one a former Toys R Us building, and one an old Kmart building—and several small downtown office buildings. All were remodeled and rented out. He had to fight the city on building codes, city ordinances, and building inspections. He seemed to relish fighting with the city and winning. None of the rehabs were easy. He would generate enough cash flow to cover the debt service but did not have a lot of cash left over. It would take him maybe six months on average to remodel the building and another six months to rent out at least 80 percent of the square footage, which basically stabilized the property from a cash-flow perspective. I sold the restaurant for about one hundred fifty thousand dollars, and that covered what I owed the IRS. I also made payments to the bank and the SBA and paid off the attorneys for the first lienholder. The whole experience was a nightmare and very stressful. Miguel got me out of a jam, and I will be forever grateful. We still get together at least once a month and catch up on things. I’ve told Miguel that if my revenues got better, I would be interested in buying back the restaurant. He agreed to that. So if the new US Consulate expansion turns out to be what all of us are expecting, I should have enough cash flow to buy it back from Miguel. I would split the property into three rental spaces, which would include a space for a restaurant. There is plenty of parking for the building, and that is a big advantage for a downtown restaurant. I did not operate the restaurant but was leasing it to an experienced operator who had been there for years before I bought the motel. I started talking to Miguel about the opportunity to buy the building. Fortunately, he was very interested in the restaurant and offered a price that was acceptable to me. We closed on the property within thirty days, as he was able to tap into his investor pool.

Unfortunately, I had to get approval from the first lienholder and the SBA because of their liens on the property. My attorneys helped me with that and struck a deal in which the net proceeds of the sale would be applied first to the IRS and then the remainder would be split among the bank, the bank’s attorneys, and the SBA. Basically, I covered my IRS taxes and reduced the debt with the lienholders. In the end it worked out very well. I also was also going to receive a bonus from my A firm in the next sixty days and use that bonus to pay my attorney fees. I no longer had the headache of collecting the rent from the restaurant owner, who was habitually late. That was now Miguel’s problem. So I was in the clear for now. Bob was very helpful and skillful in his discussions with the IRS. His cost was about three thousand dollars, but it was worth the expense. This is a big item for small business owners. It hurts to pay taxes, especially when you are not making enough money to cover all of your other debts.

CHAPTER 6

Shameful Clients

Mr. Feria

Every motel has its share of shady clients. At first, they weren’t easy to identify, but as time went on, we learned how to listen to our instincts concerning who was renting our rooms. Shady clients are a problem because they tend to attract other shady clients, and we did not want that for our motel. A good reputation is important in business. Every extended-stay patron fills out an application at the motel, and one of the questions is “Are you a convicted felon?” Mr. Feria answered no. Mr. Feria stayed with us for about three years. He was a United States citizen but worked in Juarez as a newspaper reporter. He was short with black hair, long sideburns, and bushy eyebrows. He would comb his hair to the side with no hair gel. He had a mustache and a square face. Mr. Feria had rented a suite with a kitchen. He kept to himself and would not interact with the motel staff. My son hated him because Feria was weird in the way he dressed and talked. He parked his car crooked and took up two spaces. He paid his rent on time but complained that the air conditioning was not working right. “It’s too warm. The air conditioning is not cooling right,” he complained. Unfortunately, we found out he was a ed sex offender after some of our guests started floating rumors. One of our guests had been considering moving to a house in the neighborhood and randomly checked the public sex offender database. This guest told Flor, who checked it out on the website. Flor then told me about it, so I had to put a plan in motion.

Fortunately, we did not have to wait very long. A few days after finding out about Feria, a city police officer came by and asked for him. We are not allowed to tell anyone where a person is staying unless with good cause. The policeman said that Feria was reporting to the police department that he was staying at the Border Inn since he was a ed sex offender. He said he was in room 137 when he reported to the police. He was actually in room 119. Apparently that raised an issue with the police. Flor said, “What do you mean?” The policeman said, “He is to report monthly to the police department of any changes regarding his residence location. We know he is staying here at the motel, but we need to know exactly what room he is staying in.” Flor asked, “Should we tell Feria about this?” “No, I will,” the policeman said. “I have his cell number, and we will him and remind him of the rules. He can get into a lot of trouble with the court. Thank you for your time.” The sex offender registry is a system in place in a number of jurisdictions designed to allow authorities to keep track of the residence and activity of sex offenders. These registries are available to the public. Some restrictions placed on sex offenders include living in proximity to a school or day care center. When we investigated Feria’s history by checking the registry website, we found that he and his brother had molested a fourteen-year-old niece about seven years ago. When they arrested him at his house after a search warrant was executed, Feria also itted to ing illicit material. They eventually also found images and videos of child pornography. Homeland Security and the local police task force made the arrest. At the trial, Feria pleaded guilty to indecency with a child by sexual . The judge handed Feria a ten-year probated sentence. Consequently he had to as a sex offender and complete a sex offender program. The judge said that if he violated any of his community supervision, he could sentence him up to ten years in prison. Mr. Feria worked at one of the local newspapers in Juarez and had worked there for over ten years, according to his application. He seemed to make a decent wage working as a reporter for the social section of the newspaper and was well known among the social circles in Juarez. He would write articles on events that

were happening there, mainly high-society weddings, quinceañeras, birthdays, and anniversaries. He definitely had a following, and the social butterflies were always looking for his weekend articles. It appears that he was able to keep his secret from the Mexican socialites. He would cross the bridge daily to go to work. He had to leave early in the morning to avoid getting caught in the long lines that form in the morning at the bridge. One day, I ran into him as I was walking the motel property picking up trash around the parking lot. “Hello, Mr. Feria, How is it going today?” I asked. “It is going fine. Listen, I have been meaning to talk to you about something,” Feria replied. “Sure, Mr. Feria, what’s up?” I asked. “Well, it’s about your son,” he said. “What about him?” I asked. “Your son gives me a hard time about where I park. I park on the side of the motel and not in the space in front of the room,” he said nervously. “Why do you park your car in that area?” I asked. “Because I have more space, and it isn’t so cramped. My car gets dinged by the neighbor’s car when he opens his door. I have a dent on the enger side of the car, but I don’t want to say anything. My room is the last one in the building, so no one would park there anyway,” he said. “Your son says that if I don’t move my car, he will get it towed!” “No, nothing gets towed unless I approve it. Let me talk to my son about this, and I’ll get back with you,” I stated. He was a weird duck, and I just did not like talking with him. He had beady eyes and his hair slicked back. He wore khaki pants all the time with a dark T-shirt. Thank goodness he is gone from the motel.

Mr. Carson

Carson was accepted to stay with us because he came to us several years ago when we were desperate to increase our extended-stay clients. We knew he was not normal, but we were not that picky as long as he had a stable income, and he did. It turned out that Mr. Carson in room 139 was also a ed sex offender. He was an overweight white guy and personable. He was about fifty-five years old, about six feet tall, and going bald. He was a former high school history teacher who paid his rent on time and pretty much kept to himself. The only we had with him was when he came into the office and paid two dollars for the continental breakfast. He was pretty low-key. He dressed sloppily and walked all over town doing who knows what. Like Mr. Feria, the police came by to that Mr. Carson was staying with us. Well, Mr. Carson also lied on his application for residence. We did not realize his offender status until we looked it up on the internet because of the rumors floating around the motel. When we found that he was a ed offender, we called him to the office and asked him about it. He itted that he lied on the application. Like Feria, we gave him thirty days to move out, and we waived the deposit. Carson said it was a misunderstanding and blamed it on the attorney who was representing him in trial. He claimed that they did not have all the facts and that the jury was biased against him. He said the majority of the jury was Hispanic, and he could not get a fair trial. When we investigated his history, we found out that as a teacher and coach in Miami, he had molested a fourteen-year-old high school freshman who was on the basketball and softball teams. Apparently the relationship continued while the girl was in college. Also, he had been dismissed from another school district for misconduct, charged with indecency with a child, and had his teaching certificate revoked. Although his state licensed certificate was revoked, he was

able to teach and coach at private schools. He was finally caught after several female athletes filed complaints. Mr. Carson was not married and never mentioned an ex-wife. He claimed that he was getting a disability check from Social Security. He told our staff that he worked as a barbecue restaurant manager in Miami for several years and had come here to be closer to a brother. Of course with his conviction and time spent in jail, we were sure that he needed to get out of town and have a fresh start somewhere else. He drove a beat-up, gray 1990 Honda Accord. It had a large dent on the enger side and a cracked taillight. He spent a lot of time washing his car at the nearby car wash. It was always clean. Carson was receiving a disability Social Security check. He would come in for his mail daily and chitchat with Flor. He paid his rent on time. He got along with everyone and was respectful to the motel staff. He had a particular habit of rolling his luggage bag everywhere. I’m not sure what was in the luggage, but it looked odd for him to be pulling it across the parking lot and then rolling it on the sidewalk going into town. We never asked him what was in it because we thought he would get mad. We never saw him smile. Carson parked his car in a carport that was not meant for him. I did not mind it, but my son was furious that he was getting special treatment. When Mr. Carson finally left the motel to move in with his sister, we found the room to be a pigpen. There was food everywhere—old bananas, open bags of chips, half-full cans of sodas and beer. There were clothes on the floor and a filthy bathroom, too. It seems that he never cleaned his room. But he has not been the only client to have such a filthy room at the motel. It is amazing how someone could live in such conditions on a daily basis. Thankfully, he is also gone.

Pretty Girl

One Saturday morning as I entered the motel lobby, I noticed an attractive young lady pouring some coffee. The coffeemakers sit outside my office. As I was opening the door, she said, “Hello! How are you doing today?” “Oh, I’m doing okay. It is still so warm in the morning,” I mentioned. “I know; that is the way the summer months are around here, right?” she said. She was a very attractive white girl, maybe about twenty-five years old. She was about five foot five and slender, with blonde hair, a clear complexion, and brown eyes. She was instantly likable with a great smile. She would come up to you and strike up a conversation very naturally. My first impression was maybe she was a student because the fall semester was just starting at the college. I did not see any needle marks on her exposed arms. She dressed neatly and had a wonderful laugh. She made friends with everyone at the motel. She had signed up to rent a room for a month. I introduced myself to her and thanked her for staying with us. I asked her what she was doing in El Paso, and she said she was ing through on her way to Mexico to see her sister. Somehow I felt she was lying by the tone in her voice. Her answer did not sound right, and I figured there was more to the story. About a week later, I saw her one last time walking around the motel on a Sunday morning. It looked suspicious, and I asked Flor about it. She said that she was waiting for her boyfriend to pick her up. I did not see her anymore after that. A few weeks later I asked Flor about her, and it turns out she was a hooker. Flor said that she was not taking drugs. Her husband was a disabled vet in a wheelchair, and he had a ton of tattoos on his body. According to Flor, she had been seen around town and was still working the streets. Once Flor verified her suspicions, the pretty girl was asked to leave within five days. It could be that she was trying to raise money for herself and her disabled husband. Who knows? What an unfortunate situation for a young girl to be in. All I could think of was that she was somebody’s daughter. How did her life get to this stage?

CHAPTER 7

Inspections, More Taxes, and Lawyers

We would have annual city inspections of our swimming pool. We would get written up all the time because the pH balance was not correct, or the ladder was loose, or the deck was cracked, or the fence around the pool needed painting, or the signs were faded. One time we had four city inspectors come to look at the pool. Two were seasoned inspectors, and two were in training. After we received a written report the day of the inspection, we would then correct the item immediately, report it to the inspector so he or she could come back and the correction, and then the inspection. The city also checked our lobby area where we sold beer, sodas, and chips. They would not give us any problems with the lobby because we were not a big operation. Regarding the hotel occupancy taxes, the city rate is 7 percent, and the state rate is 6 percent on motel sales revenue. There is another 2 percent for an entertainment tax to events and promotions that the city engages in. Regarding the state sales taxes, the required amount to pay is 8.25 percent on sales. You have to pay these taxes on a monthly basis with a standardized form that the city mails to the businesses each month. Like the IRS taxes, I got behind on these taxes for about eighteen months. The main reason was no money. I knew that I was collecting taxes on behalf of the city and needed to remit to the city, but instead I used that money to pay bills. The enforcement by the city was not strong, and I decided to take advantage of that fact until I could generate more revenue and catch up. Unfortunately, it has not happened yet. I was not generating enough cash flow to pay my bills, and almost all of them hit at the beginning of the month. Thus, I was overdrawn on four s at my local bank. I would overdraw these s, and as the month went on and I collected more

money, I would cover the overdrafts; then I would do it again at the beginning of the next month. I did pay the sales taxes on time for the state comptroller mainly because their enforcement process was more aggressive to the point that state agents came to the motel. Then one day I got certified letters from the city attorney’s office indicating city taxes had not been paid and were subject to penalties and interest. I had to respond immediately to the letter. It had a number to call. I got all my records together so I could discuss them with the city attorney’s office, and I set up an appointment to discuss my predicament. I owed $9,325 for about eight months of taxes. Again, the motel was not doing well, and I was desperate to make sure I covered my mortgage payments and operating bills. I was always hoping that my sales would increase from additional marketing and better pricing. Unfortunately, it was not happening, and again I had to dip into my personal cash flow to cover the taxes. At the meeting I offered to pay one-third of what I owed and pay the rest over the next six months. They agreed and warned me to stay compliant going forward. I did not like that experience and again started thinking about selling the motel. I was conflicted about selling it or grinding it out to the end. I was tired of using my personal cash flow to keep the motel going. My property taxes were about twenty-five thousand dollars a year, and I would have to dip into my bonus money every January to cover them. I should normally accrue for property taxes, but again I was not generating enough money to do so. The trips to Las Vegas had to wait since all the money went to pay my property taxes.

State Comptroller

These taxes are paid online on the twentieth of each month. I got behind on these taxes several times and could not pay consistently. Unfortunately, several times they would place a lien on my business checking , which basically paralyzed my operation because you cannot write any checks or use your debit

card. When I paid the amount due, the lien was released but not until a couple of days later. This created a problem for me several times when I had to do the payroll. The s were frozen, and I could not get them cleared in time to pay my staff, so I had to draw cash from my personal . It was nerve racking. It was hard for me to pay on time because of the motel’s jerky cash flow and the lack of sufficient revenues. After I proved that I had made the payment for the sales taxes, the agent would call the bank to and then instruct the bank to release the lien. This went on for several months, and I hated it. How do I get out of this vicious cycle and not dip into my personal s to cover the negative cash flow of my business? I had several visits with the agents at the state comptroller’s office to make my late payments for the taxes. They would call the motel and threaten to place a lien on my checking s. They placed liens several times, and it was very frustrating. One weekday morning, an agent from the state comptroller’s office came into the motel lobby with a policeman. She told Flor that she was there to take the cash in the cash to satisfy the lien because I was fifteen days late in making the payment. She told the manager that they estimated the amount to be $550.75. Flor called me in a panic and wanted to know what to do. I said to stay calm and me the phone so I could talk to the agent. Flor said to Agent Marquez, “My boss is on the line and would like to talk to you.” She got on the line. “Hello, this is Agent Marquez.” “Good morning, Agent Marquez. My name is Manolo Martinez, and I own the motel.” “Yes sir, Mr. Martinez, what can I do for you?” she asked. “Well, I understand that you are there in the lobby, and you actually are taking money from the cash ,” I said nervously. “Yes I am, Mr. Martinez. You did not pay your monthly sales tax to the state.”

“How many days am I past due? I normally go online to pay,” I said. “You are fifteen days past due,” she said. “Can you wait ten minutes, and I will be there to give you a check?” I asked. “No sir, we are taking the money now based on our authority. We will leave you with a receipt. Please make your payments on time, Mr. Martinez. Have a good day,” she said quickly. My manager told me later that the agent was bossy and tried to intimidate Flor with her voice inflection. She said the policeman had his arms crossed and was looking uninterested, and he seemed disappointed that the amount was only five hundred dollars. Flor said the policeman had this look as if to say, “What am I doing here?” It was clearly a show to intimidate a small business owner. And it worked. I was intimidated and fearful of any repercussions. I have improved keeping up with the state taxes. I now run about five days past due tops and pay the penalties and late charge fee. I have not received any visits from any state agents in a long time. These are taxes that I pay regularly. I did not like this experience either, and again the thoughts of selling the motel entered my mind. I was very frustrated with the motel and how it was draining me emotionally and financially. I had owned it already seven years, and I did not know if I had the stamina to continue operating it. The motel was overwhelming for my son and me. Between my day job and the motel, I was wearing down. But I kept hoping that things would work out and my retirement dreams would come true. I did not expect to own the motel for over ten years and not turn a profit. I purposely keep my wife out of the motel business because it is scary and intense. She had her job as a teacher and was happy with her situation. She loved having the summers off and all the holiday time off. She is always telling me to sell the motel, but for some reason I can’t. Not yet.

Law Firm

Lawyers are expensive to work with, and there is no guarantee you will win if you go to trial. My attorneys were overall okay, but they had so many other cases that, depending on the potential payday, my case might not be a top priority. I knew Bruce for years as we sat on several boards together. He was well respected in the community and was not afraid to charge his clients a hefty fee. He was a partner in the law firm of Burton, Smith, and Ramirez with a staff of about twenty employees and about seven licensed attorneys. They specialized in auditing, tax return preparation, and bankruptcy. About fifteen years ago, I switched from another law firm because they made too many mistakes and were very expensive. I knew that Bruce’s firm had a good reputation and had been in existence for about thirty-five years. The firm assigned a seasoned attorney to help me with my estate clients from my A practice. His name was Andrew, and I had a good relationship with him. We had a lot in common with sports and politics. He was originally from West Virginia. He lasted about eight years, and then Andrew decided to go into teaching at a community college back in West Virginia. I was sorry to see him go. He was smart and efficient and offered great advice. After Andrew left, I was assigned a less experienced attorney named Rafael, but he had a lot of energy and was eager to assist me with my clients who needed wills or trusts prepared. I did some of the tax returns for several of the law firm staff. The relationship began when I ed the first ing firm I worked with. That firm had relationships with several of the law firm’s partners. I got to know the partners and the partners-to-be. Once I went on my own, several of the staff wanted me to help them with their retirement planning and estate tax planning. Overall, things were okay the first year, and then the wheels started shaking. I was not getting the adequate and timely for my clients who needed wills drawn up or trust documents prepared. It was making me look bad in front of my clients since I was recommending the law firm. I decided to set up an appointment with Bruce to discuss the predicament and provided him with several emails. I had received letters from my customers

complaining about the lawyers, so I wanted Bruce to understand what was happening with our process, which had been working. My clients were paying a pretty penny for my services and were also paying a high fee to his firm. They were complaining to me that the prices were high and the attorneys were missing appointments. Because I was behind on my 941 and 940 taxes with the IRS, the bank that was my first lienholder made demand on my note and tried to foreclose on the motel. I hired Bruce’s firm to stop the foreclosure and try to work something out with the IRS. The firm had a board-certified bankruptcy attorney that I might need if it got to that point. Keep in mind that I was not past due on my note with the bank, but the loan covenants said that I had to pay all applicable taxes. I had invested a lot of money to purchase the motel and remodel the rooms. I was not about to give in to the bank’s demands. I had never been in this situation, but I had assisted a lot of people who were in a predicament like mine. I never thought I would be in trouble like this. I was really worried that it would hurt my reputation, my ing practice, my financial position, and maybe my marriage. It was awful, the worst feeling in my life. My first several meetings with the attorneys were unpleasant. Meeting with attorneys is stressful to begin with. Meeting with attorneys is expensive, and there is no guarantee it will turn out like you expect. The prognosis looked bad. However, they felt that they could provide very good defenses against the bank and work something out. Only about 5 percent of cases go to trial. If you go to trial, you might as well flip a coin to see who wins. When it was all said and done, I had to pay the bank’s attorneys a whopping twenty-four thousand dollars and my attorneys nearly thirty thousand dollars, in addition to paying the 940 and 941 taxes with penalties and interest of $75,000. So it totaled one hundred twenty-nine thousand dollars plus the time, the worry, and the stress that was expended. Why did I get into business? Remind me, please! I should have just stayed with worrying only about debits and credits. It really helped that the law firm had a board-certified bankruptcy attorney. He was able to convince the bank attorneys that it was in their best interest and his client’s interest to agree to his proposal of letting me sell the motel and come current with proceeds. A Chapter 11 filing creates all kind of delays, legal expenses, and stress.

Also, going to trial is another matter altogether that does not guarantee any of the parties any success. Yes, the bank had a lien, but it might have to accept a lower payment and a lower interest rate and possibly end up with the motel and take a loss when they resold it. This kind of scenario terrifies banks because of the large potential loss to bank earnings. I have heard horror stories about going to trial. The state judge may not like you or your attorney. The judge may not understand the hard financial details of the case. The jury may like you but not your attorney, or like your attorney but not you. Of course, going to court is expensive and time consuming. They say it is not who is right or wrong but who puts on the best presentation to the jury. At the end of the trial, the chances are fifty-fifty that you will win. I was very interested in agreeing to whatever my attorney recommended as long as it did not break me financially.

CHAPTER 8

Other Worries

When you run a motel, there are many expenses in addition to the types of taxes you have to pay as a business. Water and electric usage are huge expenses, but pest control and other guest amenities are important considerations. Water and electric meters are handled by the El Paso Utilities Board. The water meter runs about seven thousand to eight thousand gallons a day with the electric meter running about 213 kWh (kilowatt-hours) per day. This translates into about four thousand dollars per month. The electric meter usage has been stabilized and improved. We changed many of the interior and all of the exterior lights to LED lighting. My younger brother, Esteban, is a master electrician, and he helped us rewire the building and change out the exterior lighting. He also had good recommendations for the interior lighting. Thankfully, the electric meter has gone down by 1 megawatt. We had problems with the water meter several years ago where the meter jumped between twenty thousand and thirty thousand gallons a day for a full month. We had not been paying attention to the meter readings until we started paying five thousand to seven thousand dollars monthly, which killed all my profit and then some. Since the motel was running on a thin profit margin, it was devastating, and I had to use my personal funds for several months to cover the financial hole. The main culprit was water leaks in many of the motel rooms. Unfortunately, the plumbing fixtures are the original fixtures and naturally wear out. We found out that either the flapper of the toilet was worn, broken, or missing, or the lavatory and bathtub faucets were leaking because the seals were worn or the handle mechanisms were broken. Also, the toilet fill valves or the flush valves gave out. So, we made a full press on identifying the leaks in every single room. Then we went to the local plumbing company and bought faucets, seals, handles, flappers,

toilet fill valve repair kits, and flush valve repair kits. We also started reading the meter daily to stay ahead of the game. The morning manager checked the electric and water meters and logged the readings into a book so we could keep track. Once the meter goes above ten thousand gallons in any day, we start checking the rooms for the leaks. We were frequently calling the city Utilities Board to come and check our meters. We felt that they were outdated and inaccurate. They ignored us for a while until I paid a visit to one of the water managers. A few weeks later, they checked our water meter and replaced it with a new one. Our usage went down. They also checked our electric meters, but they were okay. The problem with old properties is the old pipes and old electric wires. What was really bothersome is that we would ask our customers to notify us if there were any leaks in the toilet or lavatory sink, but they would not notify us. Our water meter was running on average about ten thousand gallons per day. Whenever it would spike to thirteen thousand or higher, experience taught us there was no question that there was a leak in one of the rooms. We now have been able to get the meter down consistently to about seven thousand to eight thousand gallons, and the drop in the water bill has been dramatic. The first thing the maintenance guys would do was check all the unoccupied motel and extended-stay rooms, then the occupied motel rooms, and lastly the occupied extended-stay rooms. We, of course, either put notices on the door or knocked and asked for permission to check the toilets and sinks. It was the biggest hassle for the maintenance guys and for several of the customers because it took them away from their other assignments. But it had to be done because the additional gallons would show up on the water bill. When the motel was built, copper pipes were used extensively to supply water to all the rooms. Now copper is expensive, and alternative ways are used, such as PVC pipes. We replace plumbing and electrical fixtures whenever they go out or there is water leaking. Our program has been like that over the years. So I would say that we probably have replaced about 40 percent of the electrical and plumbing fixtures. We still have a way to go, but we will get there. I can’t count the number of times my brother Esteban has helped around the motel, replacing the old lighting with LED lighting, replacing old ballast in the rooms with newer ballasts, or re-wiring a room because of faulty wiring. He has

been a lifesaver, and of course he does it at a good price. My youngest brother, Jose, is a licensed commercial plumber. He has been in the business for over thirty years. He is a former Marine and has a total of twentyplus years in the Air Force Reserve. He truly is a war hero and knows his plumbing. Several times I have had major leaks in the big pipes in the ground. It took Jose, me, my son, and another worker a full sixteen hours to get one of the leaks fixed in the bar. The pipe was embedded in cement, but water was seeping out. Using a jackhammer on the cement, we had to expose the leak although we were not sure where it was coming from. So it was a hit-and-miss operation. After a few hours, we found it and started trying to repair the pipe. After it was repaired, we had to mix cement to cover the large hole we created. Cleaning up the mess took another two hours. Because of his years of experience with the El Paso public works, Jose knew exactly what to do. My other brother, Rafael, is a handyman and is exceptional at fixing air conditioners and getting them to work again. Air conditioners go fast in hot weather and are pushed hard by clients who want the room to be at the coldest temperature possible. This puts a lot of stress on the air conditioners. Rafael has helped me several times fix the air conditioners in some of the rooms. They usually need Freon or cleaning of the filter, or they just need to be replaced. Rafael’s wife, Diane, designs T-shirts and has helped design many of the uniform shirts and caps we use at the motel. She does a great job. She is very creative and very skilled. The employees like the shirts and wear them all the time, but they are not required uniform. Because we are right on the border or ground zero, we have problems with the internet and cell phone connectivity. The frequencies from across the border seem to interrupt our medium-quality equipment and service. I always have to call a technician or carrier to fix the problem. The property sits on two acres, and 70 percent is surrounded by a six-foot fence with barbed wire attached to the top. The fence needs repair. The motel property backs up against an old residential area that is not safe at night. We constantly have to do maintenance on the fence, when it appears to have been tampered with by someone. Part of the barbed wire has been removed or parts of the fence

have been cut. There is a one-hundred-foot stretch in the front where I planted a dozen fifteengallon-size bougainvilleas about seven years ago. Today, no one can get through it. I consider the bushes more dangerous than a pit bull and more protective than a six-foot barbed wire fence, and they are almost as beautiful as roses. Yard maintenance at the motel never ends. The end game is to have landscaping that is maintenance free or needs little maintenance. We have done so many experiments but we have not perfected it yet, but we’re getting close.

Bedbugs and Rodents

Bedbugs are part of the hospitality business. You cannot get away from them no matter how hard you try. They say that bedbugs travel with the customer via suitcases, cars, customer’s blankets, etc. One day a customer from room 115 came into the lobby and showed us her arms and legs; they were so red that it looked as if she had a thousand mosquito bites or a rash. It was awful. We had her go to a local clinic and, of course, we paid the medical bills. Other customers have been bitten over the years, and it is a terrible experience for them. It is also a pain for us to clean the rooms, not to mention that it’s a hit to the motel’s reputation. Once bedbugs are identified, we take the mattresses, sheets, and pillows out of the room, and we use special defoggers to kill the bugs that are lying around. After a day, we check the rooms and look for the bugs. If we find more, we put out additional foggers and check again. The mattresses are laid outside at the back of the motel in the hot sun for a day or two. This kills the bedbugs because they cannot survive the heat. We clean and vacuum the mattresses and put them back into the room. Virtually almost all motels/hotels have bedbugs at one time or another. The bugs don’t discriminate whether you are a one-star or a five-star establishment. Bedbugs feed exclusively on blood. These insects like warm houses, especially

near or inside beds or other sleep areas. If a bedbug bites you, you probably will see skin rashes and/or blisters. Some say the bugs have been around for thousands of years. Treatment includes eliminating the insect, including its eggs, and taking measures to treat symptoms until resolved. They are brownish in color, flat, and oval, without wings. It is very unsettling as a business owner knowing that these insects can really hurt your business and your reputation. There are many chemicals on the market that we can use, but the foggers seem to be the best solution. We can go a whole year before a room gets bedbugs. One day, Flor told me that we might have a little friend (mouse) eating some of our food inventory like chips, muffins, etc. So we decided to plant some traps and see if we could get the bandit. The first night Antonio set the trap with some food, and we waited until the next morning. Nothing. And the food packages were still being tampered with. It turns out that Antonio had set the trap backward. So he fixed it, and sure enough we trapped the large mouse the next morning. Thank goodness! Another incident involved the bar area. Although the bar was not being used, we walked in one day and saw mice droppings by one of the main doors. It appeared that the mouse or mice were traveling through a hole in the wall that was accommodating a plumbing pipe. Again, we set traps and caught two of the rodents. We did not see droppings again. We don’t have a mice problem, but occasionally one will show up, and we jump on the situation immediately. There are several cats in the area, and I think that helps as well.

Swimming Pool

When I bought the motel, the swimming pool was in good condition. The depth went from about three feet to six feet, and it had a diving board. The pool was about thirty-five feet by fifteen feet and required about thirty thousand gallons of water. Having a swimming pool has positives and negatives. The positives include the aesthetics of it. A clean pool is inviting and relaxing. It gives the impression of a vacation resort.

It attracts many customers with kids, but it is the kiss of death if you have parents with kids and an unclean pool, or no swimming pool. It creates a high stress level between the husband and wife and the kids. We had so many complaints whenever the pool was down. Everything was going fine, and then I noticed our maintenance guy was taking about two hours or so to clean the swimming pool. He would vacuum the pool, which took a while. Since there were palm trees around the pool, the leaves and seeds would fall into the water and require constant cleaning. The chemicals were expensive, and the pool increased our water usage. We would use buckets of chlorine, and we were always monitoring the pH levels. There were times that the water would turn dark green, and we would panic and hire a pool company to help clean and stabilize the pool. That was expensive. During the summer months, kids were always running in the pool area and sometimes would slip and get hurt. Most of the kids would start bleeding from their scrapes. Then the drama would start with the parents, and the managers would get involved and arguments would ensue. The deck was old and had to be repaired several times. Cracks would develop every year, and it was a big hassle to repair. I was always doing patch work. Gus did a great job taking care of the pool every day, but for an older man it was very labor intensive and time consuming. Cleaning the pool and putting in the right chemicals was a job in itself. After several years, I decided to replaster the pool and spent seven thousand dollars to get it done. There was no question that the pool looked great, and Gus was happy. The expense did not include redoing the deck, but I had no money for that. Clients were happy with the pool, but the kids kept getting hurt mainly because we operated the pool without a lifeguard. Also, many parents would let their kids play unsupervised. Since I had no lifeguard on the payroll, the parents were responsible for taking care of the kids. Many times they would leave their children alone at the pool, go back to the room, and forget about them. A manager would notice and tell the parents they could not do that. It was a miracle that nobody drowned. Because we had kids running around, horsing around, and getting hurt, I was petrified about the prospect of a lawsuit and possibly losing everything I worked

for. The last straw for me was when a ten-year-old boy cut himself running on the pool deck and stepped on a crack. He started bleeding so much that we had to call 911 and get an ambulance. Fortunately, the emergency technician was able to take care of the boy at the motel. The accident created a big scene, and it was very dramatic for everyone. The motel paid for the expenses, and luckily the problem went away. It could have been much worse. After that situation I decided to close the pool and do something else. We drained the water and left the pool empty for several months. We locked the gates so no one could get in. Soon after, I decided to fill the swimming pool with dirt and grow plants and bushes and give the area a park effect. I filled it with dirt and planted cenizo, ginger lily, big blue liropes, a few Mexican heather, and croton. These plants love direct sunlight and don’t need a lot of watering once they get started. Ricardo, my maintenance guy, and I dug a lot of holes for all of these plants. We used a ton of potting soil and planting mix. We were able to have it completed in about two days. The prepping was exhausting but well worth it. I laid down a weed screen over the entire area with chips on top to kill the weeds and keep the plants from being suffocated by them. In one year I had a beautiful garden with a ton of compliments. It was one of the best decisions I have ever made. The patrons seem to enjoy it because it is a relaxing place. I placed some benches and tables and chairs on the pool deck, now a patio, to enhance the garden experience. I no longer have to worry about swimming pool chemicals or kids getting hurt or complaining parents. The pool was a money pit and constantly exposed the motel to liability. This was a business decision that does not seem to have hurt my sales. If customers ask about a swimming pool, we tell them there is a city park with a large swimming pool and lifeguards available only eight blocks away, and we will pay for the entrance fee. Some customers are okay with this because it will keep their kids happy, and the room rate does not cost an arm and a leg.

CHAPTER

Life Near the Border

Being located by a downtown border can be very eventful. City police always by and frequently stop to chat with our managers. I encourage the police to stop by anytime. I instruct the staff to offer them bottled water or sodas when they stop by. It is a good idea to have the police on your side. We even participate in their crime stopper program by volunteering for some of their fund-raising events and even donating money. Over the time I have had the motel, the police would stop by at least once a month. I was okay with that because it made everyone aware that the police are close by. Unfortunately, some of those stops were to check on a guest or arrest a guest, to investigate a complaint coming from our address, or to look for a suspect who was reportedly coming by the motel. Sometimes there were maybe ten police cars with lights blaring in the front of the motel because they were chasing a car with a suspect for robbery, speeding, or worse, gunfire. We got to know probably about two dozen policemen and women over time, including Commander Esparza and Lieutenant Castillo. As a good corporate citizen, the motel would participate in the annual Christmas food drive, and Lieutenant Castillo was very grateful that we participated and would send us a thank-you note after the event. Because we were in the downtown area on a busy boulevard, and near the international bridge, there was always some action occurring near the motel. Only a few policemen were jerks, demanding to see videos or wanting us to open some of the motel doors where a suspect might be staying. But for the most part, the policemen were professional and cordial. They would take the notes from our various conversations with them and offered advice in case of robbery or suspicious activity. Since we were downtown, they could be at the motel within minutes, which was comforting.

In just seems to make sense in business to have a cordial relationship with the local law enforcement and the city istration. I do not one time when the police gave us a hard time for anything. I told my staff to treat them with respect and be courteous. You never know when you might need their help.

Border Patrol

The border patrol comes around frequently. Before the border fence was put up in 2014, there was so much activity at all hours of the day and night. One night at nine o’clock, there were twenty or so immigrants lying on the ground facedown and a dozen or so border patrol agents surrounding them, waiting for a van or bus to pick them up and likely deport them. It was a very dramatic scene with the government vehicles shining their white, blue, and red lights. Like the city police, the border patrol would regularly cruise up and down the boulevard in front of our property, slowly looking for illegals or anything that seemed suspicious regarding illegal aliens. They spent a lot of time parked on the levee just waiting for an illegal(s) to pop up, and then the show would start. They would frequently come onto the property and roll slowly through the parking lot, occasionally beaming their floodlights on doors and parked cars. It did not bother me, as we had nothing to hide, and it gave us some comfort that law enforcement was in the area. Since we had no security guards, I welcomed the surveillance. One night around ten o’clock, I got a call from the night manager. There was an army of border patrol agents in front of the motel on the street side, and they had eighteen illegal aliens on the ground facedown waiting for a bus to pick them up. The illegals were in front of the motel entrance, which was now blocked with all the border patrol vehicles. Our customers could not come into the motel that way. They had to use the side entrance or leave the motel until the aliens were picked up. Like Department of Homeland Security (DHS) agents, the border patrol agents were many and roamed the downtown area. And like the city police, they would come on the property and beam their large spotlights on motel doors and parked

vehicles. With the border fence in place, apparently the apprehensions have slowed down in the city of El Paso, but the number of agents has not been reduced. There is no question that the number of agents in the El Paso sector helps the economy significantly. Security is expensive. Unaccompanied migrant kids in custody are the responsibility of the United States government. All these kids carry a piece a paper that has the name of a relative and a phone number. The plan is basically to get these kids settled with relatives who will take care of them. These kids are traumatized and held in lessthan-satisfactory conditions. Recently approved new government standards allow US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) to screen adult caretakers for citizenship status has intimidated both the parents and relatives to claim these kids. There has been a protest to remove ICE from the equation regarding citizenship. Most Americans don’t know that there is a legal agreement that obligates the United States to take care of unaccompanied minors based on the Reno v. Flores settlement (1997). In 1985, Jenny Flores, a fifteen-year-old girl who entered the United States illegally, was taken to a detention facility where she was with adults, men and women. There were daily strip searches in violation of her constitutional rights. After many years of litigation, the agreement established national policy on how immigration authorities are to handle immigrant children. The gist of the agreement is to release these children to the custody of their families and to provide them with adequate temporary living conditions while awaiting release to their families. Occasionally, we would get what appeared to be illegal immigrants, adults and children, staying with us for a day or two. These are the ones who got away from the authorities for the time being.

Homeland Security

The United States Department of Homeland Security (DHS) officers also come around the motel. The focus of DHS is anti-terrorism, border security, immigration and customs, cyber security, and disaster prevention and management. It was created in response to the September 11 attacks. The US Border Patrol and US Customs Service are under DHS. I don’t quite understand why we need all of these agencies in the area. It seems that there is a lot of overlapping of responsibilities. Every day you would see the white SUVs with blue lettering going back and forth from one bridge to the other bridges, ing in front of the motel. On any given day, they were everywhere in the downtown area. You would see them at the downtown restaurants and convenience stores. We did not have much with them, but occasionally they would come into the lobby to buy a soda or chips. Their presence was, I’m sure, to check on the motel activities and see if anything looked suspicious. When the Marines came into town in early 2018, by order of the president, to put up the curling barbed wire against the border fence, DHS was there assisting them by blocking the roads or directing traffic along with the city police. I recently had a new neighbor come into the neighborhood. The ex-neighbor went back to Ohio. His company decided to shut down part of its maquiladora plant in Juarez where he was working. He was not happy about going back to Ohio. It was ten below in December. As it turned out, my new neighbor, Salvador, was the new regional director for the DHS El Paso Sector. He was about forty-five years old, married, and had two kids ages twelve and ten. Salvador had transferred from Washington DC and was originally from El Paso, so he was very happy to be back home. I would occasionally see him and his wife at the country club. I would also see him playing golf with his friends on weekends. Every month he had some get-together with his friends and people from work. The cars were lined up on the street. I don’t know why, but I did not want to get close to him just yet. I felt as if every conversation might turn into an interrogation. But so far, he has kept his distance and maintains his yard. I’m okay with that.

CHAPTER 10

Extended-Stay Clients

Mr. Cardenas

We read in the local newspaper that one of our clients, Mr. Cardenas, was found under one of the international bridges by the riverbank, floating in the Rio Grande. The client was found about three blocks from the motel by a border patrol agent on routine patrol. His body was not decomposed, so he had not been in the water a long time. There were no signs of injury or foul play, and his facial features were recognizable. The authorities found a room key on him that had the Border Inn name. He died of an apparent suicide, according to the city coroner, via drug overdose. He was a heavy of painkillers, according to his daughter. The day after Mr. Frank Cardenas was found, the city police came by and talked to Flor about him. He was forty-seven years old and a long-haul truck driver. He had stayed with us for about five months, and he stayed to himself. We found out from his sister, who came by to claim his belongings, that he was suffering from depression because he recently had lost his truck-driving job due to a DWI conviction. They gave him two years probation and a three-thousanddollar fine. With the conviction, it would be almost impossible for him to find another truck-driving job. He also had child payments to make and was in trouble with the State Attorney General’s office regarding his past-due payments. His ex-wife would report him to the attorney general regularly when the payments were past due or when he was late in returning the kids to his ex-wife. He had a sevenyear-old son and a four-year-old daughter. Occasionally we would see them with

him on weekends at the motel. Flor said that Mr. Cardenas would complain about the ex-mother-in-law harassing him. She would frequently call and give Frank a hard time about not paying child and threatened him with ing the attorney general’s office. Frank told Flor that the mother-in-law would tell her daughter not to let him see the kids. He told Flor that he hated the mother-in-law. He blamed the ex-mother-in-law for their divorce. She was always interfering in the marriage. She would tell him that he was not good enough for her daughter. Since Frank was behind on the child payments, there was a real threat that his visitations would be suspended, which was Frank’s worst nightmare. Mr. Cardenas wanted to be a family again and tried to reconcile with his wife several times. Unfortunately, she started seeing someone else. We did not know that he had an issue with depression. However, Flor said that he appeared irritable and anxious all the time. When he made his monthly payment, she said he always was in a rush and told her to hurry up and give him the receipt. He seemed to be worried about a lot of things. We were not aware of Mr. Cardenas getting any medical help for his mental health issues. They say that people who have mental health issues like Mr. Cardenas struggle with some type of shame that they do not share with anyone. We do not know if Mr. Cardenas experienced any abuse or trauma when he was a kid or if he had panic attacks. We assume he was lonely, but he did not seem to suffer with poverty. The key they say is to show comion to the person instead of judgment so the shame starts to remove itself. Suicide is one of the top ten causes of death in the United States. On Sundays, I would see him occasionally in church by himself. I know he had demons and was trying hard to eradicate them because of the children. I think the weight of the mother-in-law’s criticisms, the child payments, and the state of depression was unbearable. He wanted peace.

Proud American

One day, one of Mr. Trevino’s kids saw in the paper that we were offering extended stay at the motel at a reasonable price. His son asked him if he would like to try that out for a while. He could always come back home if he did not like it. So Mr. Trevino agreed as he saw an opportunity to move out from under the kids. Mr. Trevino was retired military and received a pension and Social Security. He was sixty-nine years old. His wife had ed away five years ago, and he was moving from son to daughter and back. He did not want to live with any of the kids and grandkids anymore. He wanted to be on his own. When he checked in, he mentioned that he and his wife would come to the motel lounge on Friday nights and enjoy the music and food. He had wonderful memories of his wife and their time at the motel lounge over forty-nine years ago. Once he moved in, he would walk around the property and sit on the bench outside the lounge, which was closed. Every once in a while, as he was sitting on the bench, you would see him smiling. Mr. Trevino was born in Juarez and was deported three times. He was brought over by his family when he was child. He volunteered in the army when he turned eighteen and quickly went to Vietnam. As it turned out, three of his four sons now serve in the military. He would tell his sons to be proud that they were Americans. He told Flor that he met his wife one night while he was on leave from the army. They met in the motel lounge many years ago when he was there with some buddies and his Rosa was with her girlfriends. The music was polkas and cumbias that night. He spotted her right away and asked her to dance. At first she said, “No, not right now.” Several dances later, Mr. Trevino asked her again, and this time she said yes. They had a long-distance romance while he was in the service, and they kept in touch through many letters back and forth. The next time he was on leave, they got married. He would talk about his sons and was especially proud that they had ed the military and made it a career. The son that did not the military went to college and became a teacher. He was the only one who lived in town. The other sons were scattered in other states. He would not see those sons very often. The

one who lived in El Paso had several children. He would pick up his father on Sundays and go to Mass and lunch and bring him back in the evening. This went on for about a year and a half. Mr. Trevino was happy on Sundays and somewhat depressed during the week. He loved them all, his sons and grandchildren. I think he felt that he was a nuisance to his son and his family, so he felt it necessary to find some other housing. I truly believe that he had wonderful memories of his wife, especially when they were younger, and the motel was an opportunity to be close to those memories. One Friday, the sons who were in the military came to the motel to pick up Mr. Trevino for a Father’s Day weekend. He was very happy to see his military sons and their families. He had not seen them in a few years. Unfortunately, this would be the last time they saw him alive. He told us later that they took him to a steak house on Friday, a seafood place on Saturday night, and a buffet on Sunday. They even went to Mass together, including the brother who was a teacher and his family. He got to see his daughters-in-law and the grandkids. He said he had a wonderful weekend. On Monday, the depression returned. Next to him were pictures of his three sons. When we did not see him for coffee, we knocked on his door, and there was no answer. Flor called the maintenance man to check on Mr. Trevino. Rick opened the door and found Mr. Trevino on the bed. He died there, holding a picture of his wife. We called 911, and soon afterward, the police and ambulance arrived. We called his son, the teacher, and he was devastated. Mr. Trevino received a twenty-one gun salute and taps, and the family was presented with a folded American flag.

Mr. Gordon

Mr. Gordon was from Salem, Oregon, and he was about eighty years old and an army veteran. He was a dear friend of the motel; we considered him family. Mr. Gordon would come down to El Paso every winter to get away from the bitter weather in Oregon. He would stay with us from November to February. He

always wanted room 137, and of course we would accommodate him. He was about six foot three and weighed easily three hundred pounds. He walked around with a cane and wore big black-framed glasses. He was bald, with a deep voice and a booming laugh, and he loved to read the El Paso paper. He was a nice, likable guy. Mr. Gordon enjoyed talking to Flor in the morning on just about anything. I was amazed that he had the energy to make the long trip from Oregon down to west Texas. But I think the love of the motel and his motel friends greatly motivated him. “Mr. M., how are your Spurs doing?” he asked. Mr. Gordon loved sports and followed college football, the NFL, and the NBA. I was amazed at his knowledge of the players and the teams’ records. “Oh, not too good. I don’t think they are above five hundred,” I responded. “After Ginobili retired, and Leonard and Parker were traded, the team seems to be struggling. But it is early in the season, and Pop will have them coming back. He always does. How did your Oregon Ducks do this past season?” “Well, they are going to the Alamo Bowl. They had a pretty good season but barely made the top twenty-five. They lost a lot of players to the NFL,” he stated. He loved coming to the lobby. He would get there about six thirty in the morning and look for the daily newspaper. He would get a cup of coffee and listen to CNN on the television. He had an opinion about almost everything happening in the world. He really loved our bacon and egg tacos that I bought in the mornings at the local convenience store and resold to our motel customers. He had one every day. Mr. Gordon had one daughter whom he did not talk about much. She lived in Portland with her husband and two daughters about one hundred miles from where he lived. She was a marketing representative, and her husband was a police officer. However, he would talk about his granddaughters all the time. One granddaughter was a pediatrician, and another was a high school coach. You could tell he longed to be with the granddaughters, but they only visited him about three times a year.

Mr. Gordon worked at a logging company for twenty-five years until he hurt his back. He was living on a pension and that paid the bills. He lived in a remote area near a reservoir about sixty miles north of Portland. He loved to fish and would fish daily if he could. He had a fishing buddy who ed away while he was staying with us on his most recent trip. He would lament that his fishing buddy and dear friend was gone. He traveled on Amtrak from Oregon to Los Angeles and then changed trains and continued to El Paso. He stayed with us for about three months every year for ten years straight. He liked our weather, our food, and our staff, and he enjoyed going to Mexico to buy medicine and liquor. He and Pablo, the night manager, became close friends. He gave us an Oregon Duck football banner that was so cool. It had a dark green background with the Oregon Duck logo in the middle. I hung it up in the bar when it was operating as a bar. We really appreciated Mr. Gordon staying with us every year. He would pay for the three months, and I would give him the fourth month free. He really liked that setup. Mr. Gordon was maintenance free. He was easygoing and personable. He was also a good storyteller. I don’t know the complete story on his wife. He did not talk about her, so I decided not to ask. However, it was said that he had divorced his first wife and lived with another woman, who was a nurse, that he apparently referred to as his wife. According to Flor, the “second wife” had died several years ago, and he missed her immensely. The first wife was still alive. My guess was that his daughter favored her mother and not so much Mr. Gordon, thus the infrequent visits by the daughter. One morning as I arrived at the motel, I asked Flor about Mr. Gordon. Where was he? Normally, he was in the lobby ready to greet me as usual. She said that he had not come in yet. So, for the next twenty minutes or so, I went through my morning routine with the paperwork and preparing the daily deposit. I was ready to leave for the A office and asked again about Mr. Gordon. Flor said nothing yet. I did not have a good feeling about this. I told Lily to knock on his door to see if he needed anything. No answer. She did it again with more force. No answer. We called Jorge and asked if he knew anything. He said that he and Mr. Gordon had pizza the night before in the lobby. Mr. Gordon had also given Pablo a list of

groceries to pick up in the morning. Jorge came over in ten minutes and opened Mr. Gordon’s door. There was Mr. Gordon, slouched over the arm of the chair with the rest of his body on the floor. He had ed away. Pablo broke into tears immediately, and we tried to contain him. Flor also started crying, and I started tearing up. We called 911, and soon the police and ambulance arrived. It was so emotional for us to see him like that. Our friend had died. No longer would we be hearing his jokes, his complaints, or his booming voice and laugh. They took him to a local funeral home. We called his daughter, Teresa, who took the news very calmly to our surprise. The impression, we felt, was that she knew he was sick and maybe she tried to stop him from making the journey. We don’t know. We asked her how she wanted to handle the arrangements. Should we get the funeral home to ship him to Oregon, or would she be coming to Texas to make the arrangements? Interestingly enough, according to Pablo, Mr. Gordon told him that night in the motel lobby that he wanted to be cremated if he died. He also told Jorge that he was seeing spirits and said they were coming for him and taking him home. His daughter said she would make arrangements with the funeral home. It appeared that she and the family were not going to come to El Paso. Pablo gave her all the information for the funeral home. We don’t know what happened after that. Weeks later, we got a copy of Mr. Gordon’s obituary.

High School Sweethearts

Fernando had been with us only a few months as an extended-stay customer. He seemed ordinary enough. He worked at a local pizza restaurant and was about twenty-four years old with a positive outlook on life. He was a big guy, about six foot and two hundred pounds. He was well built and kept his black hair short. Fernando had been a star football player in high school. He was a very good running back and had taken his high school team to the district championship and to the state quarterfinals.

He was offered several Division III college scholarships and one Division II scholarship. But because of his cheerleader girlfriend, he decided not go anywhere and to marry his high school sweetheart after he graduated from high school. They had a baby boy about two years later. His wife ended up graduating from college with a teaching degree. Fernando went for about two years of college, quit, and decided to work in the restaurant industry. After several years, the marriage started to go sour. There were rumors about spousal abuse, but no one knew for sure. She claimed that in the divorce proceedings, but there was no proof. We think that she was disappointed that Fernando did not turn out to be in a better financial position. She had certain dreams, and he had others. They eventually got separated and a year later divorced. He was staying with his mother for several years until he got back on his feet. That’s when he came to us. He liked our monthly price, and the motel was not far from the restaurant where he worked. He would leave his room about 9:30 a.m. to catch the bus to the restaurant, which was about two miles away. He had worked at the restaurant since high school and was now the manager. The pizza restaurant was popular, and occasionally I would go there with my wife and see Fernando. They had the best pasta selection with cavatini being the most popular. He would be happy to see us and would give us a discount every time against our objections. As we got to know Fernando better, we realized that he was really bothered about the separation from his wife. It seemed that every day he was apart from his wife he was despising her more and more. He would complain to Flor that she was giving him a hard time about not picking up his son in the evenings according to what was agreed upon. He said that he worked in the evenings but could pick up their son in the afternoons before work for a few hours and pick him up on Sundays. She was not accommodating, so he would not see his son as often as he would like. He was constantly arguing with his wife, and the animosity was getting worse. To make matters worse, he suspected that maybe she was seeing someone else, but he was not sure. Flor thought that she was not seeing anyone else. She felt

that Fernando was just a hothead who needed to chill out. Lately, he seemed angry all the time. One Friday night we went to the restaurant to have pizza. While we were there, Fernando came up to our table and said that he was not going to stay with us at the motel much longer. He said that at the end of the month, which was ten days away, he was going to move in with his mother to save money and take care of her. He said that he liked staying with us, and it had really helped him; however, the child money was eating him up. By moving into his mother’s house, he could use his rent payment for the child . The attorney general’s child division came after him for not paying about three thousand dollars in back payments. The office gave him thirty days to pay. Otherwise, he would lose his job and face jail time. He was devastated because he did not have any options. The world was closing in on him. In the next few days, his wife came by. She went to his room, which was on the second floor, and started to pound on the door. “Fernando, Fernando … I know you’re in there! Open the damn door!” she cried. Fernando opened the door and told her to calm down. She would not. She started to scream again. “Where is my money? You owe me money! I’m going to call the police if you don’t pay me!” He yelled back, “Calm down, Melissa! You are making a scene! I’m going to open the door, and we can talk! Okay? Okay?” She responded, “Open the damn door, you idiot!” He opened the door, and they stayed outside his room on the balcony arguing. Several people were peeking from their window, watching the spectacle. She started hitting him and trying to slap his face. Unfortunately, Fernando lost his cool and hit her in the face with his fist. The punch knocked her out, and she collapsed on the balcony. She hit her head on the concrete and was bleeding from her nose and head. Flor called the police, and they were there in minutes. Fernando did not move and stayed in his room with the door open. The police arrested him without incident and took him away. An

ambulance also had come and took his wife away. We all felt that something was going to happen between them. We just did not know what and when. We were relieved to hear that his wife was going to be okay. Fernando, on the other hand, got one year in jail. I know it will kill him that he cannot see his son the way he used to. We wish him the best. Maybe the year in jail will help him reflect on how he will live the rest of his life. Hopefully, he can come up with realistic plans to get his life straight and get back to seeing his son.

Community College

Fortunately, there was a community college about only six blocks away from the motel. That fact alone motivated me to purchase the motel. Also, the university was about five miles away. This worked very well for the motel, as the college had about eight thousand students and a few of them, including professors, would stay with us. The university had about fourteen thousand students, and we would get some students from there as well. The price of the extended-stay program was four hundred dollars per month with cable, electricity, and water included, and it was hard to beat. If you paid three months in advance, you would get the fourth month free. Clearly, the room was not the size of a six-hundred-square-foot apartment. It was about half the size, but so were the payments. If a student used it for a semester or so, it was perfect. We would get about ten students and three professors to stay with us every semester. After a while they would rotate out as the students went to the university on the other side of town or the professors took jobs elsewhere. The number one complaint was the internet service. I know the word spread that our service was lousy. I’m still working on it. Parents would come by and check out our motel and our extended-stay program to see if it was safe for their kids. Most parents liked our setup, but of course it is not a college dormitory and you are living with adults from all walks of life. But we never had any incidents between clients that I would consider unsafe. With

the city police, border patrol, and homeland security roaming around all the time, we kind of had our own on-campus police. I knew several of the college trustees because of several organizations I was involved in. They recently had hired a new president to take the college in a new direction. I understood that the college was financially strong and was generating a significant amount annually from the tax revenues they received as part of the property taxes assessed by the city. The college had been around for well over eighty years and was well managed by all s, as enrollment had been going up for the last five years. The new president, Dr. Garza, wanted to expand the sports program and the international student program, as well as improve the scholarship program. Dr. Garza had experience with the private sector in Mexico, working with a large maquiladora. His experience in the real world is what appealed to the board of trustees that hired him. He was a very classy guy and carried himself very well. He was about fifty years old, with a thin build and combed-back hair that was gray on the temples. I was on one of the college scholarship committees and had the opportunity at one of our quarterly meetings to sit next to the president. I talked to him about housing sports teams. So Dr. Garza called me one day and wanted me to meet with him and his vice president of istration to discuss possible housing for students, with a particular interest in housing athletes. We met on a summer afternoon in a conference room on campus. I had a presentation ready with details about the motel and photos. This was a good opportunity to see if I could sell the motel or work out some commitment from the college so I could obtain financing for their specific project. The president was interested in elevating and expanding the sports program. They only offered baseball for men and women, and he wanted to introduce men’s and women’s soccer and basketball, as well as women’s volleyball. The president was well aware of the wealth of talent in all of these sports right in El Paso. It would not take much to fill these teams from the local talent and from the neighboring state of New Mexico. He wanted to have a more complete college experience for the students, and he felt that the athletes needed to be

housed together. One of the components to a successful athletics program is having student athletes housed together for better control and to minimize distractions. He also wanted to kick off a program that recruited international students from all over the world, especially Mexico, and Central and South America. He previously had worked at a college where an international program was very successful. He was interested in separate housing for them as well. Obviously, coming from another country, the student would not know about the housing opportunities in El Paso. He saw a great opportunity to expand the number of students and expand the international flavor of the college. President Garza felt housing would be one less issue they had to worry about. He was in the process of getting funding for this program, as well as getting funding for the sports initiatives. He indicated that the board of trustees was for it as well. He had presented a comprehensive package of both programs to the board and what it would do for the college and the community. He was very excited about the potential. Of course, I had enough rooms but not enough rooms with kitchenettes, which is important for students on a tight budget. It would cost about three thousand dollars to add a kitchenette to each room. Of course, I had big plans but no money. With a letter of intent from the college, however, I could find financing from a bank. I felt I could block out about thirty rooms on a permanent basis for the college. So it would cost about ninety thousand dollars to retrofit the thirty rooms into something like mini apartments. I would put in better floors and upgrade the fixtures and appliances. Unfortunately, my big plans with the college came to a halt. I opened the paper one day, and there on the front page was the headline that the previous college president had won over $15 million in a lawsuit against the college for wrongful termination. Her award was for the two years of salary remaining on her contract and about $14.5 million for punitive damages. The jury felt that the college was being unfair to the ex-college president, who was a Hispanic woman. Apparently her firing was not justified in the eyes of the jury. The papers were full of political theories and secret motives by the board. The college immediately appealed the verdict, and who knows when it will be resolved. Unfortunately, more legal fees and more nonlegal expenses will

continue to add up, with a high probability that the college will lose on appeal. Needless to say, this verdict put a lot of pressure on the college’s finances. The lawsuit and the resulting verdict left a dark cloud over the college and the college’s trustees, and it is not over yet. So, in the meantime, I will have to pursue other avenues with companies and/or nonprofit organizations that need rooms for their employees or clients.

CHAPTER 11

Maquinitas

One day a friend of mine, Bill, called me and asked if my bar area was rented to anyone and how many square feet it was. I told him that it was not rented and that it was about two thousand square feet and had a two-year-old AC system with bathrooms and a wet bar area. Some of the tenants, I said, used it occasionally for special events like birthday parties and anniversaries. Bill was a client of mine, and I had known him since I came to El Paso to practice ing. I knew his father very well, and he was referred to me by a banker friend. Bill’s father, Dennis, was a very funny man, who was always telling jokes although most of them were colorful and not necessarily repeatable in decent company. They were large ranch owners with a lot of cattle, and they had gas and oil on their property, so they were well off. They also had a hunting operation that was beginning to take off as Bill started to take over some of the ranch activities. I had been to the ranch many times and enjoyed the outdoors. Bill’s mother, who owned the ranch with her brothers, had ed away several years ago. I did some of the estate ing for them for the IRS audit. His father, Dennis, was not in good health and had become bedridden. It was just a matter of time. I wondered what in the world these guys would want to do with a downtown bar. A couple of days later, Bill and a contractor came by to look at the bar. They measured the bar to see how many eight-liner maquinitas, or slot machines, would fit. They came to the conclusion that about seventy-five machines would fit pretty comfortably, and they would make electrical enhancements and clear it with the city. I had no concept of what the business entailed, but I didn’t want any liability that would put the motel or me in legal jeopardy. You could pick up the paper any

day of the week and read that another maquinitas operation was shut down. The city police or the sheriff’s department would pick up all the machines and the money and arrest some of the staff and patrons. The operators were charged with illegal gambling in many cases. Sometimes they were charged with money laundering. The next day there would be a half-page article about the raid with names and amounts. The machines would be returned, and the arrested people would be let go, but the authorities kept the money. The operators would find another place and operate it for six months, make a ton of money, and get raided again. It seemed the authorities liked raiding these operations because of the money they kept. The money would be in the thousands. This was a high-risk business, and I was not sure if I wanted it at my motel. If I agreed, it was going to require that I have an ironclad lease between my limited liability company and the game-room operation. When you go to Chucky Cheese, Peter Piper Pizza, or any establishment that has game machines, the concept is the same. You pay money for a chance to win, take a spin, and maybe you will or you won’t win a prize. If you win a prize, you exchange it for a stuffed bear, colored pencils, or whatever the establishment offers, bur certainly no cash. Mainly kids are the risk-takers with their parent’s money. These eight liners, however, were for adult entertainment. I guess it gives customers the sense that they are for a little while in Las Vegas. The state law and code 47 allows a business to have slot machines, but the business cannot pay cash, and whatever the prize is, it cannot cost more than ten times the cost of a spin. If the operators pay cash, that is illegal. The interesting thing is that the illegality is considered a misdemeanor. Bill and his brother, who were land rich, owned the company. I guess they were bored and wanted to make money a new way. They came up with the “silver” concept in which a customer was paid in silver BBs and could go their local jeweler and convert the silver to money. The company had three attorneys involved to make sure the district attorney and sheriff were notified about this venture. Any attempt to stop the business from operating would involve lawsuits. Most of these businesses operated differently. They usually gave kickbacks to

officials to let them operate. If a business was shut down, usually the money was picked up as well as the machines. The owner paid a fine and a hefty price to get the machines back. Then the operator would go somewhere else and do it again until they got caught. In the largest operation in El Paso, there were about three hundred machines. These machines were rented from and maintained by a Mr. Harvey, who had been in the business for over thirty years and had all kinds of certifications, including several from the State of Nevada. In a normal-size game room you can put about one hundred machines. So this particular location was a very large operation, relatively speaking. The manager, Pam, was excellent. She was very detailed and had every penny ed for at the end of every day. The brothers trusted her completely, and she had the respect of the employees. She was firm because she had to be with all that cash floating around. Also, the customers liked her because she had a good personality and was very friendly. Her brother Alex was in charge of the kitchen and maintenance. He was a good cook, and the customers were happy with the menu and the food. He could fix anything that needed fixing. He had electrical and plumbing experience and was also a pretty good carpenter. Unfortunately, Pam and Alex were charged with a felony along with the other employees. The employees complained later that they could not get a job because of the felony charges. The brothers decided to close all of their shops and let the dust settle for a while. The statute that allows gambling devices in Texas with certain restrictions is Section 47.01 et seq, of the Texas Penal Code, specifically Section 47.01 (4)(B), which states that a gambling device does not include any “electronic, electromechanical or mechanical contrivance designed, made and adapted solely for bona fide amusement purposes, if the contrivance rewards the player exclusively with noncash merchandise prizes, toys or novelties, that have a wholesale value available for a single play of the game that is not more than ten times the amount charged to play the game or device once, or $5.00, whichever is less.” The biggest complaint that I hear is that this type of business encourages criminal activity. The only illegal activity is that some of these places pay cash. Most of the patrons, who are middle age and above, have a good time.

The owners had to establish a good relationship with the district attorney to make sure that if the sheriff arrested anyone, the district attorney would drop the charges. The owners gave a show for the district attorney to explain that no money was being paid, and instead it was silver BBs. The district attorney was receptive to the concept but did not want to have any issues with the sheriff’s department. They told the district attorney that they would be talking to the sheriff as well. Like the district attorney, there had to be a relationship with the sheriff’s department. Most sheriffs don’t like these operations because they get a lot of complaints from people who consider it a crime to gamble—although you will see these people at church bingo. The biggest complaint about eight liners is that they allegedly bring crime to the area. There is no proof of that except for the crimes being committed by any owner who gives out cash. And even that is considered a minor crime. The brothers had been operating two other locations outside of the city. At one location in a different county, they were grossing about five thousand dollars a day. In the other location, also in a different county, they were grossing about thirty thousand dollars a day. Needless to say, these operations were profitable. The other sticky point was the banking side of it. Most banks are terrified of taking in this much cash in one day because it appears suspicious. The brothers were working with two banks. One was a large, regional, publicly traded bank headquartered in San Antonio but with offices in El Paso. The brothers’ family had been banking there for over twenty-five years. The other one was a small community bank that had several branches in El Paso. One of the brothers knew the bank president very well. Both banks wanted to work with the brothers but were terrified of the bank regulators. The brothers decided to keep a lot of the cash at their offices and homes. After several months, the banks decided to close the s and gave them cashier’s checks. There were many meetings with the bankers, but they could not be convinced otherwise. They wanted a declaratory judgment from a state judge stating that the operations the brothers were involved in were legal. At this writing, there has not been a judgment forthcoming. Unfortunately, after about seven months or so, each operation was also shut down. In the largest operation, the employees and one of the brothers were

charged with felonies. After a year, the felony charge is still sticking, but interestingly no trial date has been set yet. The felonies were for alleged money laundering, meaning that cash by illegal means was being deposited in the banking system. The legal expenses are high, and no end is in sight. Of course, the payout was not in cash but in silver BBs. The defendants are anxiously waiting for a trial to prove their innocence. I decided not to have the maquinitas placed in the bar and instead transformed it into a music lounge. On Fridays we have an open-mic night where anyone who wants to sing or play solo or as a duet can do so. On Saturdays, we have karaoke night, and that has turned out to be a popular event. We built a small stage for the performers, and it has worked out great. The lounge also has a digital jukebox tied to the internet. It has access to a thousand songs in many genres. Since it is a lounge, it is open from around 4 p.m. till midnight. We serve free peanuts and finger foods. All the beers are cold longnecks. We have several bigscreen televisions that the college kids like. The lounge has turned a nice little profit, adding another amenity to the motel. Our guests really like the Border Lounge. It took several months for the lounge business to catch on, but now we have regulars in addition to the motel guests.

CHAPTER 12

Conclusion

The idea of buying a motel was very appealing to me, primarily for one reason: a better return on my money. However, I found out the hard way that the risks are very high and can ruin you financially—with possibly no ability to recover. Anyone who wants to own a business needs to look at the opportunity as objectively as possible with no emotion and do the proper due diligence. No dreaming allowed. Okay, maybe a little. Yes, you need some motivation other than financial. There is pride of ownership, working with family , providing a service to the community, and the real possibility of very good returns on your investment, which you may not otherwise have. Savings s and money market s offer minimal returns at low risk. Mutual funds and corporate bonds offer you higher returns but with higher risks. The stock market is volatile, and there is no guarantee of a set return. The investment strategy you choose to pursue is really a personal decision. The story about my investment opportunity with the motel is not over. There are several more chapters that need to be written later. There has to be a conclusion to this investment decision that I made so many years ago—probably when the motel is finally making a solid profit or when it is sold. In the meantime, I will continue fighting for that illusive reward.

GLOSSARY

Here’s a guide to some of the Spanish words and found in this book.

Buenos dias—Good morning

Como estas?—How are you doing?

Cuota—Bribe, toll

Carne Guisada – Mexican beef stew in brown gravy.

El Instituto de Technologia de Monterrey—The Technology Institute of Monterrey, Monterrey Tech

El Paso—The , a large city located at the westernmost tip of Texas

Juarez—A large city in Mexico, across the border from El Paso, Texas

La Bestia—The beast

Las Cruces—The crosses, a city in New Mexico

Malos—Bad guys in Mexico

Mana—The bad guys, bad group

Maquinitas—Little machines, eight-liner slot machines

Menudo—Popular Mexican soup, made with cow’s stomach in broth with a red chili base

Mordida—Bribe, protection fee

Rio Grande—One of the principle rivers in the southwestern US and northern Mexico

San Antonio—Saint Anthony, large city in south-central Texas

Siesta—Nap time, sleep time, relaxation

Superfecta bet—A horse-racing bet placed on four horses coming in an exact

order

Taquieria—indoor or outdoor place where tacos and other Mexican dishes are made and sold

Toda va muy bien—Everything is very good