Men whose wives in their drunken stupor wanted to stay in Juarez; men with women that they had picked up, but were too drunk to walk, were thrown over their shoulders, and carried like a bag of meal to the American side of the bridge; drunken women helping women more drunk than they, with the occasional leaning over the side of the bridge to let off some of the last of the liquid cargo they had taken on at the last bar.
Pearl, Evelyn and Mickey were among the last to come across, with Pearl and Mickey leading Evelyn, who was too drunk to make it alone.
"Ev, you should never get this drunk," said Mickey.
"Who are you, sister? I'll get as drunk as I like," mumbled Evelyn.
"What I'd like to know is how much she drank to get this drunk. I've seen her kill a quart at a time, and never phase her, but my God, she must have got to a barrel this time," said Pearl.
"Let go of me—I can walk alone," said Evelyn, as she pulled away from them.
"Do you think you can, Ev?"
"Sure," said Evelyn, as she staggered to the curb, vomiting down her entire front.
"There she goes; now she will feel better as soon as she gets some of that stuff out of her," said Mickey.
"Yeah—but we better hold her, she might fall," but she was too late; Evelyn was already lying in the gutter. "What a sight she will be now—come on, Mickey, let's get her up to my hotel—call a taxi."