He sat in the darkened porno theater as outside rain came down in sheets - yawning loudly at intervals. On screen some Japanese bitch getting pounded by buff gym bunny - is that makeup and lipstick the onscreen stud is wearing? Attention drawn back to the dark form scrunched in his seat feet propped up on forward chair, black hood pulled over his head so sinister, so mysterious, so dark...Several faggots I have noticed approach him and he sneers disapproval. I light up a Lucky Strike cigarette and he asks for one - plan is working so far. He wants to hold a conversation so I move and sit right next to him and he remarks on the cockjunkies doing their silent ballet like phantoms without purpose.
“Enjoy.”, he says and with a flick of his lighter he illuminates the tattoo scrawled the length of his thick brown penis - Enjoy. I smile and mumble amazing - I get a good look at him - handsome pelon with goatee.
Conversation on his part is where I live and let’s go - wet sidewalks and incandescent puddles of black sooty water move under our feet - around the block to my trap make no time getting undressed.
His skinny well toned brown form is like a dream - Aztec tattoo on right arm and wings tatted across his upper back - my Dark Angel. It is damn cold and we both jump under the blankets and wrap around each other like hibernating snakes. We kiss, sixty nine and I mention his cock is too much for me - fat and long - but he don’t care and slide it up in me anyways. Thrusting and lunging for half an hour he cums and we share a Lucky shivering under the messed blanket. He said his name was Carlos.
Dressed, we cut to the corner taco shop and gobble grub and talk of shit while drinking good coffee. He mentions something afterward to the effect that all his clothing is being retained in lieu of not paying hotel bill for two days. Under the green awning rain bouncing up on my pants leg I hand him sixty dollars - we shake hands and mumbles after he takes care of his debt he’ll be back to cojer. I watch him disappear into the grey haze.
Adios, Carlos - it was fun.
Get the beat kicks and trudge to centro to Plaza Santa Cecilia and drink coffee and smoke a cigarette wanting really to go. I can’t connect with anyone any more.
More and more I have become anti-social - not in a mean spirited way - I don’t wanna be around anyone. Everything bores me. I have no urge to do anything. I sit in the cafe coffee getting cold rain coming down - two rentboys sit across the cafe chatting and sipping hot cocoa - eyes meet but mine are dull like dead fish eyes void of interest and life. Time drags.
Pay up and walk into an Internet cafe and check out airfares to Hawaii, Puerto Rico and even to El Paso - fucking depression kicking my ass. I stare at the screen and wonder when this wandering will stop.
Past flickers by like a film negative. Can’t keep a job, boyfriend, apartment, friends - why? I understand how - but I don’t understand why? Cold wet and dark the night has become, Dear Reader - just like Your Reporter - and that is one coldness you cannot beat. I walk the few blocks back to my room, shoes sloshing wet coughing my smokers cough. Attached to the gate of my building was a note for me written in red marker:
Luis - I came back but you were not here. It is me - Enjoy!
Yeah. That was the kick in the ball’s I needed. Just tromped up the dripping stairwell and into my dark trap snuggled down and watched my favorite movie of all time.
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