Before going to the homeless shelter yesterday, I jetted
over to Target and bought some outfits. What is the fashion-conscious transient
wearing this winter? I also stopped by Border's Books and purchased a copy of
James St. James Disco Bloodbath. Very interesting read.
Well, after re-packing my new boxers, socks, and pajamas into my duffel bag, I called a taxi to pick me up and drive me down to Primavera Men's Shelter. It was a shelter, all right. A massive two-story corrugated iron building that you entered via a muddy road. There was a fenced-off area with picnic tables and benches. The building opens its doors at five in the afternoon and it was only four forty-five when I arrived. So, I paid the taxi driver and got in at the end of the line of about twenty men waiting to get in. And they all were old scraggly men in army jackets and well-worn jeans. They huddled in the cold air, collars upturned, spitting on the ground, talking with palms outward and up.
I didn't lose heart; I think I will like living in this small town. This is just a step I must overtake to reach my goals. And what goals are they, you ask? Well, I'll tell you, silly. I plan to get a job, an apartment, and schmooze with the local artsy-fartsy kids that live in this town. From what I saw in the paper, rent here is pretty cheap and there is plenty of work. No more drug-fueled parties! I really began to loathe Tijuana...it is such an evil city.
Well, I was eventually processed and given a bunk. The inside was a massive room that held at least two hundred army surplus bunk beds. I got a top bunk. My bunky below me is a withered old thing with a walker. After I made my bed and changed into my lounging outfit, the goofy fat bald guy next to my struck up a conversation.
The following is not made up…
He went into a long tirade about how the government is hunting him down, has frozen his bank assets, and just made his life, in general, a conspiracy hell hole. He produced from a folded swath of Chinese rice paper a little pin with some kind of electrode on the end.
"You see that?" He breathed. "You see? This is what they pulled out of my ear. For years they could see what I see...they saw through my eyes!"
Enough of that. I laid down amongst the smell of sour feet and unwashed bodies, doubting my own sanity. Am I all right? Am I losing my mind? What if I am going crazy...sane people don't do what I do. I really began doubting my actions over the last few weeks.
Then he walked in.
Shaven head, black goatee, hazel eyes, and baggy street clothes with a boxers build. He had a tattoo of a teardrop below his left eye. This little cholo was hot! And he got a bunk right next to mine! Right away I introduced myself and he said that his name was Luis Valenzuela and he just got released from prison. After he made up his bed, we went out to the little patio to talk. I told him my story and he thought it was pretty funny. I said I wasn't worried about my situation that much because I had some money left in the bank.
"For reals?" Luis said. "Let me have thirty dollars." He then went into this spiel about these shoes he wanted.
"What do I get out of it?" I retorted. Nothing’s for free...learned that from my days in Tijuana.
"What do you want?" He asked.
Without batting an eye, I said, "I want to suck your dick."
Naturally, he looked flabbergasted. I thought he was going to punch my lights out. Then a sly grin crept across his handsome lips. "Okay. But where?"
"Follow me into the restroom." And when we went into the men’s room, no one was in there. We went into the back stall, closing the door behind us I sat on the toilet and Luis pulled out his erect penis. I was so excited! Remember, I haven't had any action since Tijuana and this boy was too cute to pass up. I sucked that thick uncut cock like my life depended on it! Luis was letting out little moans and I was nervous that some old hobo might hear us and report us to the facilitators. Finally, when Luis was close, he pulled his dick out and sprayed down my hair and the right side of my face with gobs of hot cum! It was pretty intense! As I wiped my face and hair with toilet tissue, he stated that he hadn't cum in three months.
Odale.
Well, after helping Luis with his well-earned thirty dollars, I went to my bunk and began to read my book. Pretty good, Dear Reader, you should check it out. Luis decided to go into the T.V. room and watch the football game that was playing. At nine, they shut off the lights, but I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned amid the high-decibel snoring and farting. Plus, I began running a fever and that just added to my misery.
At five o'clock in the morning, the lights came on and everyone made a mad dash to the restroom sinks to wash up. I felt like shit...like I was hit by a ten-ton truck. My throat ached, my back hurt, I was feverish. Luis looked so adorable wrapped up in his blankets. I wanted to reach over and glide my fingers down the happy trail that lead into his blue-striped boxers. I invited Luis to breakfast, but he said he had to meet his cousin for something. He is so goddamn handsome. Who knows? Maybe something will come of this.
I left after I washed up and had breakfast at this little diner called Dizzy G's. I think I will make it my hang-out. I waited for the library to open, to use their computers and printers to update my resume. Tomorrow I will go out and start looking for work.
Well, after re-packing my new boxers, socks, and pajamas into my duffel bag, I called a taxi to pick me up and drive me down to Primavera Men's Shelter. It was a shelter, all right. A massive two-story corrugated iron building that you entered via a muddy road. There was a fenced-off area with picnic tables and benches. The building opens its doors at five in the afternoon and it was only four forty-five when I arrived. So, I paid the taxi driver and got in at the end of the line of about twenty men waiting to get in. And they all were old scraggly men in army jackets and well-worn jeans. They huddled in the cold air, collars upturned, spitting on the ground, talking with palms outward and up.
I didn't lose heart; I think I will like living in this small town. This is just a step I must overtake to reach my goals. And what goals are they, you ask? Well, I'll tell you, silly. I plan to get a job, an apartment, and schmooze with the local artsy-fartsy kids that live in this town. From what I saw in the paper, rent here is pretty cheap and there is plenty of work. No more drug-fueled parties! I really began to loathe Tijuana...it is such an evil city.
Well, I was eventually processed and given a bunk. The inside was a massive room that held at least two hundred army surplus bunk beds. I got a top bunk. My bunky below me is a withered old thing with a walker. After I made my bed and changed into my lounging outfit, the goofy fat bald guy next to my struck up a conversation.
The following is not made up…
He went into a long tirade about how the government is hunting him down, has frozen his bank assets, and just made his life, in general, a conspiracy hell hole. He produced from a folded swath of Chinese rice paper a little pin with some kind of electrode on the end.
"You see that?" He breathed. "You see? This is what they pulled out of my ear. For years they could see what I see...they saw through my eyes!"
Enough of that. I laid down amongst the smell of sour feet and unwashed bodies, doubting my own sanity. Am I all right? Am I losing my mind? What if I am going crazy...sane people don't do what I do. I really began doubting my actions over the last few weeks.
Then he walked in.
Shaven head, black goatee, hazel eyes, and baggy street clothes with a boxers build. He had a tattoo of a teardrop below his left eye. This little cholo was hot! And he got a bunk right next to mine! Right away I introduced myself and he said that his name was Luis Valenzuela and he just got released from prison. After he made up his bed, we went out to the little patio to talk. I told him my story and he thought it was pretty funny. I said I wasn't worried about my situation that much because I had some money left in the bank.
"For reals?" Luis said. "Let me have thirty dollars." He then went into this spiel about these shoes he wanted.
"What do I get out of it?" I retorted. Nothing’s for free...learned that from my days in Tijuana.
"What do you want?" He asked.
Without batting an eye, I said, "I want to suck your dick."
Naturally, he looked flabbergasted. I thought he was going to punch my lights out. Then a sly grin crept across his handsome lips. "Okay. But where?"
"Follow me into the restroom." And when we went into the men’s room, no one was in there. We went into the back stall, closing the door behind us I sat on the toilet and Luis pulled out his erect penis. I was so excited! Remember, I haven't had any action since Tijuana and this boy was too cute to pass up. I sucked that thick uncut cock like my life depended on it! Luis was letting out little moans and I was nervous that some old hobo might hear us and report us to the facilitators. Finally, when Luis was close, he pulled his dick out and sprayed down my hair and the right side of my face with gobs of hot cum! It was pretty intense! As I wiped my face and hair with toilet tissue, he stated that he hadn't cum in three months.
Odale.
Well, after helping Luis with his well-earned thirty dollars, I went to my bunk and began to read my book. Pretty good, Dear Reader, you should check it out. Luis decided to go into the T.V. room and watch the football game that was playing. At nine, they shut off the lights, but I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned amid the high-decibel snoring and farting. Plus, I began running a fever and that just added to my misery.
At five o'clock in the morning, the lights came on and everyone made a mad dash to the restroom sinks to wash up. I felt like shit...like I was hit by a ten-ton truck. My throat ached, my back hurt, I was feverish. Luis looked so adorable wrapped up in his blankets. I wanted to reach over and glide my fingers down the happy trail that lead into his blue-striped boxers. I invited Luis to breakfast, but he said he had to meet his cousin for something. He is so goddamn handsome. Who knows? Maybe something will come of this.
I left after I washed up and had breakfast at this little diner called Dizzy G's. I think I will make it my hang-out. I waited for the library to open, to use their computers and printers to update my resume. Tomorrow I will go out and start looking for work.
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