About a month ago, a friend of mine "made a deal" on a 4-inch Model 65 he wanted to have handy in his house. As the Model 65 is in a caliber that is VERBOTTEN here, it was an under-the-table sort of thing. My friend was out of town, and arranged the money transfer to the bank account of the seller who was anxious to get the piece out of his hands. My friend called me wanting to know what to do.
"Tell buddy to bring the gun here to me. I'll take it home, and give it to you when you get back to town." That was what I told him. The seller appeared, amazingly enough someone I actually knew ["Why didn't you come to ME with that?" ran through my mind.] I stuck the revolver in a desk drawer and hung around until closing time.
Upon closing the store, I stuck the 65 in my wasteband and untucked my shirt to cover it. It was quite warm out -- this is Central Bananaland you know -- and closed up shop. I walked about the 100 yards to the designated motorcycle parking area where I leave my bike and to my dismay saw what appeared to be a mini-Policeman's Ball of parked City Police and Traffic Police bikes with the cops all gathered around discussing something that was not my concern in the warm Mexican dark.
Some of the guys I knew, some I did not, but it would be, uh, disasterous on something like the scale of the Titanic in a personal sense to be found with that Model 65 in this particular situation. I walked straight to my bike, mounted carefully so the shirt wouldn't print (or so I hoped), started the motor and...one of the traffic guys walked over and asked what I thought about the idea of the city ripping up the streets to bury the power cables.
Just what I needed. A conference.
I made a quick joke about how "as long as the power comes back on things would be fine!" I own an Ice Cream Store and even the cops who didn't know me probably knew who I was. All the traffic cops would know who I was as I give ANY traffic cop working outside my store on delivery-day Ice Cream so that when my delivery truck comes, a "parking spot" appears in front of my store. This sort of mild corruption is illegal here, and is absolutely the way it's done at the same time. Otherwise you'd never get anything done. (On cold days that turn warm, I tell the traffic cops to keep their jackets in the store. On rainy days that turn sunny I tell them to keep their rain-gear handy in the store. On nights I might be away at closing time I tell beat cops to pass by the store for a popsicle or coffee -- on me -- to make sure the girls close up okay. It's "how it's done.")
A few of the policemen said something along the line of how beautiful the street would look with no power lines or power poles. I sat there on the idling bike and commented that I had heard the plan was to eventually install gas lighting like 200 years ago. The town itself is 500 years old and ALL new construction must fit in with that look. Being here is like living in a Zorro movie.
I said "Good night, señores" and backpedalled my bike into the street. One of the cops pointed out I had forgotten to raise my kickstand.
"I always forget it," I muttered, and they laughed. And I drove off home, hoping that the Model 65 would not pick that moment to plop out of my wasteband and plunk itself down on the street.
Anyway, I got home safely and the Model 65 has long disappeared to it's rightful owner and I think is now somewhere registered as I nice Model 64. Or maybe not. However, I do not think you would have to normally carry one concealed under the same nervous circumstances that I encountered and I got away with it. "Legal like" with permits and papers and the law on your side, I see no problem with concealing one at all except that it's probably a little large unless you have the 2-inch version, which would be just peachy I'd think.
Photo; Colonial San Miguel, looking towards the square from behind the main church.
Looking at the "Y" in the street to the left side of my store (where Johnny Depp got shot in "Once Upon a Time in Mexico", although editing made it look like somewhere else. I have a photo somewhere of him laying in the street during the filming, and it's right there at that spot. Maybe I'll post it later when I find it). Up the right side of the "Y" towards the end is where the motorcycle parking is now. Right near a fountain in a wall up there. Power lines are still up in this photo, and they're still there today. Supposed to come down anytime, though.
After filming "Once Upon a Time in Mexico" here, Banderas returned a year or so later to film Pancho Villa on a friend's family's ranch up in Dolores. The scene at the end where Pancho Villa died was filmed in front of the fountain where the motorcycle parking is now. There's a street on either side of this fountain, and the motorcycle parking area is about 50 feet along the immediate other side of the street to the right hand side of the fountain. In the movie Pancho Villa, Banderas was killed at this spot.
Conversation with a friend, not all that long ago;
Friend; Do you know who Doroteo Arrango was?
Me; Yes, that's the real name of Pancho Villa.
Friend; Do you know where he died?
Me; Yes, a block from my store.
Friend; Uh....no. No, he died in Parral de Hidalgo.
Me; B.S. After Banderas filmed Once Upon a Time in Mexico, he filmed Pancho Villa. The final scene where he got shot in the old car was filmed at the end of the street over there, just in front of the fountain. Erika (a member of our Club) was chaparoning Melanie Griffith at the time, translating for her. So she has a photo of herself and Banderas up there just chatting during a break. Go watch the movie, you'll see for yourself.
Friend; I guess you're right, man. He did die a block from your store.
Since I'm on the topic of that stupid street where the motorcycle parking was that I had to conceal a totally illegal square-butt Model 65 under a Hawaiian shirt in front of a bunch of local cops at night under good street-lighting, here's the same street during the filming of Once Upon a Time in Mexico. Johnny Depp in the far background, kneeling (dressed in black and looking at the camera I think while some guy in a yellow shirt attends to some need) while I am in the foreground totally distracted as to Johnny's needs by a young girl with the neat name of Kezia, pronounced as it sounds.
She distracted me from the filming, which is right in front of my store pretty much. The "blue screen" was set up for weeks just outside the front door, but I took no photos of it. In fact, I have very darned few photographs of the whole experience, which was fun while it lasted. Too bad it's a crappy movie. But the same street that Banderas got killed on in the next film.
), but I've been carrying a 64-6 4"/round butt gun for the past week or so. This gun is new to me (a trade in from a security or police department) but I'm no stranger to carrying 4" K frame guns concealed. (You didn't mention whether your 64 is a 2" gun or 4"). 
