Saturday, April 06, 2013

Drunktard Nights at The Bottom of A Bottle

They said their names were Julio and Luis. I could care less, they were buying the beer. Before they decided to sit on either side of me at the counter, I had been throwing back cervezas Sol for a good two hours and was already feeling it. They were quite chatty. Well, Julio was. Luis simply smiled and nodded at much of what was said, but generally they both were good drinking company.
They kept insisting that they were both heterosexual. Same old macho bullshit. Julio attempted to verify the fact by whipping out photos of his two kids, a boy and a girl. Fine. You're off limits. I get it. So, the evening was wiled away mostly by conversations and off-kilter gay jokes. Like I said, I didn't mind. They flipped the bill which, as we all know, Dear Reader, is an impossible act of God down here.
Around midnight, the bar began to thin out. Mostly towards the disco which was thumping next door. The beer was really hitting Julio and I and of coarse his hands began to wander. As we talked and laughed, he began with the massaging and light squeezes of the my leg to accent a point as he garrulously talked. I realized then and there that I may have a chance with at least Julio. Luis was busy yakking with some female with bad breathe who sat next to him.
That was until he walked in. I say he, but it was a vampiric drag queen who didn't even attempt to pass as a woman. If you grabbed Phyllis Diller by the throat and held her under water for five minutes, what emerged gasping for air was this ghastly thing in gold lame and frills.
He swishes up to me and my two acquaintances and introduces himself as Lupita. I kept saying Lucy and that became a running joke. He spoke fluent English, Julio and Luis did not, so Lupita and I actually had quite the humorous conversations about Mexico, my writing and of Julio and Luis, who would best benefit from receiving a rim job.
Lupita/Lucy somehow got me to stand on the little stage by the jukebox and sing karaoke. In fits of ignorance, I belted out Boogieman by KC and the Sunshine Band. I tell ya, I cleared the room!
Before I knew it, they switched the fucking lights on and hollered last call! Yup, clock on the wall read 2:14.
As Julio, Lupita, Luis, and I stumbled out the door onto the shattered sidewalk, we hugged each other goodbye, shook hands, and for some drunktard reason, I allegedly squeezed Julio's crotch as he man-hugged me. Expecting a macho flared reprisal, he simply smirked and said, "It's big, huh?' I smiled and said, "Not too shabby." Yet, Luis El Cockblocker barked "Vamanos" and grabbed Julio by the arm, dragging him into the darkness. I said goodnight to Lupita or Lucy or whatever and stumbled the few blocks back to my sordid flat...

No comments: