Big Tranny Annie.

It was pretty hot today. So, I decided to go to the Red Zone in Tijuana to get a beer.

http://www.tijuanazonanorte.com/Photoszona_files/Caliente.jpg

The Red Zone for my Dear Readers who are ill-informed is a little patch of street on the North Side of Downtown. It is everything that you would think of "Seedy Tijuana". Under the glaring buzzing neon, hookers line up shoulder to shoulder grabbing and goosing you as you walk by. Shabby, smelly bums beg for change as hawkers scream at you to enter their bars and strip clubs.

"Titty girls!"

"Pussy women!"

As I pass by, tired and petulant hookers breath smoke out of chapped lips, teeth plated in silver, "Wanna fuck me, meester?"

So, I head over to one of my favorite dives called, Kin-kle. (Pronounced Kin-klay.) See it here:

http://www.tijuanazonanorte.com/Photoszona_files/Kinkle.jpg

Now in this bar you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. Thieves, deported criminals, junkies, pedophiles, cholo gangsters, fags and lezbos. My favorite watering spot. I enter the dark, smoked filled den as a Spanish version of Achy-Breaky Heart warbles out of a multicolored jukebox. I take a seat in the back at a dented and rusted iron table with plastic lawn chairs. The corpse looking waiter came to my table and I ordered a Sol beer.

The place was pretty empty for this time of the day. Only some old guy sat at the bar and in the opposite corner some fat cowboy was groping and finger banging an old whore at his table. She wiggled and giggled brown teeth at his advances. He smiled red eyed with a hard on.

Suddenly the light was blocked in the entrance to the door and everything in that bar came to a screeching halt. Standing in the door was a four hundred pound six foot three black man. His head shaven bald with puffs of grey lint here and there. He wore a skin tight one piece white spandex minidress, blackened and spotted with food, mucus, and God knows what else. He stood there a moment, tottering on his plastic see through platform pumps and he wore sunglasses crusted with rhinestones with little pink flamingos on top. The dark lenses were missing.

My God, he was monstrous.

He gazed around the room with bugged out eyes, flying high on God knows what kind of psychotropic drugs. His glare settled on me. His yellow eyes bulged out even more.

"Ooooo-shit! Baby!", He bellowed in a Southern drawl. He clomped over to my table. "You is fine! FINE!!" He smelt like tainted cheese.

He reached my table and bent over, breathing halitosis into my face from that gaping toothless hole, "Let Annie see them soup coolers!"

I looked at up at him, baffled and perplexed, "What? My what?"

"Your soup coolers, baby! Soup coolers!" He said pleadingly. He then puckered his massive crusted lips an inch away from my face and blew like he was cooling hot soup and then husked, "Pucker up fo' Big Annie with the innerestin' fannie." He wiggled his massive dimpled buttocks.

I glared up to this titanic thunderlizard and thought, what a strange world...and for manic depressives and schizophrenics, a sad one, too.

We blinked at each other and a moment of silence. Finally Annie stated, "I gotta pee." And lumbered into the mensroom. He was in there for some time. I finished my beer and left.