Dark Occurence

Well, I had been laid off from my job by a frigid tyrannical dried-up lesbian cooze without a sense of humor. Looks like I have some time on my hands. I checked the old bank account and decided to take a much-needed vacation. I'll hold off job hunting until the beginning of next year.

A couple of days ago, I was sitting in Park Igniente Guererro a block from my apartment. The park is a notorious cruise spot and I decided to go "Buffalo Hunting". As I was basking in the warm sun, I looked up to see Dan Cokenour approaching me. I couldn't believe my eyes. I let out a roaring laugh.

Who is Dan Cokenour, you ask? An old traveling companion, we worked in a roaming carnival a few years back and traveled the mid-west causing all types of mayhem. Dan looked like a young version of that actor Ed Harris, a chiseled-jawed Aryan with blond hair and blue eyes. Dan is quite a character. To keep a reign on his demons he downed a handful of prescribed medication each day. Like myself, he had the unique gift of gab. He used to wow me with his wild tales of misadventures starting years ago in his hometown of Gary, Indiana, and spanning the country. When I first met him, he had spent the last few years working in a traveling carnival as a game jockey. He talked me into joining him and that turned into an incredible odyssey!

So, yesterday we sat in the Park watching the parade of hot guys and he related his story of how he dumped his transvestite boyfriend Aaron in a cornfield in the middle of Illinois because she became a psychopathic nightmare. He now has a sugar daddy in New York City, and with his sugar daddy's stolen charge cards, lived the life of Riley down in Guadalajara, Mexico for six months! However, the old man is still madly in love with Dan and keeps in constant touch via a cell phone he purchased for Dan. I conveyed my mad adventures since I last saw Dan in New Orleans. Dan said he now resided at the Rescue Mission in San Diego and that he wanted to return to school and learn computers. I said my interests were still in cinema.

After the last couple of nights hosting Dan in the bars of Tijuana, I invited him to come crash at my apartment and that's when he planted an idea in my mind. His sugar daddy really misses him and wants Dan to move back to New York City so they can live in geriatric bliss. Dan invited me to come along. The house in New York had an extra bedroom and Dan suggested I study film at Columbia University in Brooklyn. The old man, name of John Bourne, said over the phone that he didn't mind. So, plans were made that I go to New York City and give it a try. Sure, why not.

The last two nights with Dan were fun. Dan and I would go to Bar Villa Garcia or Bar El Tourino and we would always score for boys. We would take them back to my apartment for a manage a toi.

Dan and I would sit in a bar and when a handsome boy would approach us (or I would strike up a conversation.) we asked the guy if he would like a sandwich.

"Que?" He would smile.

I'd point at Dan and myself and say, "Pan." And then point at the hottie, "Y tu es el carne." And the guy would then smile coyly.

I know it sounds cheesy, but the guys never said no. And the three times we attempted this, we'd lure the poor guy back to my place and Dan and would go porno on his ass!

But, today, as Dan went to the States for some goofball reason, I ran around to friends selling the various personal items I had acquired during my stay here in Tijuana. My television, stereo, furnishings, and kitchen appliances. I don't care. I'm never coming back to this part of the country again. I packed my clothes, my laptop, and photo albums. Kevin came over and I told him I would edit the movie we had worked on when I got to New York and send him a copy when I was done. We both had a rum and coke and said goodbye, then I gave him my martini set.