I went in search for a ham sandwich. They call them lonches (pronounced launch-ez) down ol' Mexico way. Not really the same as ham sandwiches stateside, but they are tasty. After walking all over centro, never did locate one, so I settled for two burritos and a soda instead.
I made my way to Park Independencia - now called Park Benito Juarez, really...they should make up their fucking minds...to sit in the shade and enjoy my settled-for meal. As with all benches in this city, every one with any shade was taken up by the legion of loafers who are waiting. Waiting for jobs, permits, visas, money orders or simply passing time to return to their bitter, hateful wives.
Next to the monument of a long dead president, I lucked out and sat on one end of a concrete slab while the other end was occupied by a young, skinny lad reading the local paper. I mumbled buenes tardes, but he had headphones on and so I simply settled down to eat.
Halfway through my burrito, the young man uttered in perfect English, "Sure is hot today, huh?"
Slightly startled by his English - it is a habit of pride in Cuidad Juarez that if you speak English or not, Spanish is preferred - I stated it was indeed warm or something to that effect. This prompted the guy - Ivan, he said his name was - to go into a forty-five minute soliloquy concerning his personal woes and tragedies. He had been recently deported from El Paso. His ID and papers were stolen. He couldn't attain work (he purchased his meals with the money he made from washing cars) and he was shacked up with a jealous and vindictive "girlfriend". I sat patiently for the mooch card to be played, yet he never asked for money.
I looked him over as he spoke. Not bad looking, in a scruffy kind of way. I wanted to help this guy. Well, I always did mean to repaint my apartment but had been too lazy recently to do it myself, so I offered the job to Ivan with handsome pay. $100 to do the entire place. He lit up and agreed.
"Let's go to your place and I can check out what needs to be done." He stated.
So, we walked over the crumbling sidewalks and past the dusty, farting buses to my trap a few short blocks away. He scanned the place and mentioned that it could be repainted...and new tiles in the bathroom wouldn't hurt, either.
He flopped on the ragged couch, "Got any beer?"
"No. But, there is a market around the block, we can get some there and bring it back." I offered.
I bought three caguamas and we returned to my flat and drank in the stifling desert heat. I have a box fan, but it was useless. Feeling the alcohol, Ivan sprawled his lanky form the length of the couch and continued his woeful rant about his current life. I sat on the dusty floor with my back propped against the foot of the couch, smoking, listening.
Then the inevitable: "Hey, man...you think you can loan me six hundred pesos (roughly fifty dollars)? I am so backed up on rent...I haven't paid the landlady in two months and I think she's about to kick me out."
Damn, I thought. It had to come to this. I turned to him to reject the question, but he lay there rubbing his stomach with his hand. His nipple was exposed and I leaned over and began sucking and licking it.
"Woah, dude! What the fuck?!" He sat up. "What the hell are you doing?"
I chuckled sorry or some stupid thing and he lay back down with a look of shock on his face. "That was weird...you gay or something?"
I didn't answer. I simply smiled as I noticed his molested nipple was still poking up through his t-shirt. "Your nipple's still hard."
"I never had anyone do that. I mean, I sucked bitches tits before, but never mine done."
I lit a cigarette and returned to my previous sitting position on the tiled floor. "Sorry, man...I thought you needed the money."
There was a long, uncomfortable silence as we sat there and drank and smoked. I heard him shift positions when next he was kissing the back of my neck, "I kinda liked it." I van whispered.
Eventually, we found our way to my bed. Clothes were thrown around the room. He lay naked on top of my nude body kissing me passionately as we riddled each others necks and pecs with hickeys. Passion mounted. Both dripping sweat from the heat. I stroked his dick as it grew hard in my hand. Laying him back, I began kissing down his stomach until I reached Ivan's black, shiny pubic hair when I heard, "I don't like getting my dick sucked."
"What?" I asked as I held his throbbing organ inches from my face.
"Seriously, I...I don't like it."
"Oh?" I said. "You're the one."
"The one what?" He smiled.
"The only man on the planet that doesn't like getting his dick sucked."
I looked up at him and saw that he meant it. "Okay." I shrugged. I rolled off the bed and began to get dressed.
"Are you upset?" He asked, pulling on his briefs.
"No. Not at all." And I actually wasn't. If he don't like it, he don't like it. I wasn't going to force the issue.
He slid on his jeans and sneered, "You don't have to be a dick about it."
I stopped dressing and asked, "In what way am I being a dick about it?"
Seriously, what is with these people? I do not and never will force anyone to do what they don't want. And I sure as hell will not placate their already screwed up ego.
"Just forget it." He retorted.
"See?! There! You're being a dick, again."
"Maybe you should leave." I calmly stated.
He stood up, began walking to the door, "Can you still loan me those pesos?"
I glared at him, tight lipped, "Now I know you need to leave."
He muttered something derogatory in Spanish under his breath and exited with a slam of the screen door. I sat at my desk, logged onto my laptop and began editing my current novel. I paused and thought of how I loathe the fact that I am so alone. The current life I was leading in abstract boredom and the secrete desire I held for emotional contact. To have someone to love and love me back. Not these heartless skirmishes ending in empty orgasms, but a true respectful relationship. I began typing, thinking, One day...one day. Or maybe not...