What a busy week! Tired and sickened by that fucking loony bin that I got myself stuck in, I returned to Tijuana and found myself an apartment. Not a bad place, near Zona Rosa and close enough to the border so I can walk or make a hasty exit. And Old Pete, the world wise literary ex-patriot lives around the corner. Darling old coot, can score fore anything and knows everyone in the Zone. Has been here since day one, grrl.
The Apartment is near the end of a blind alley that hardly receives any sun. The room itself contains a well worn queen sized bed with dark oak headboard with matching night stand. It has an amoire with full length mirror, a chair, a table and a window that looks out into the alley. The walls are painted a light mint and the floors have red tile. A ceiling fan wobbles above. The bathroom is wall to wall to floor white tiles and has a shower, porcelain sink, and a toilet. The old kind that has a latch you pull from above. The kitchen has a refrigerator from the '50's that still runs, sink area, stove, and metal table with two metal chairs. All furnishings can be considered antiques. Slightly worn. Not bad, I think, for $150.00 a month American currency.
Now, this is actually the second apartment. The first I received was consumed in cockroaches. At one point Gabriel, my strikingly hot friend who works at a restaurant called Taco Lucas came over; we drank Tecate beers and smoked a little weed. However, every time we'd sit our glasses down on the floor or the table, one of those little motherfuckers would do a Greg Luganis into our glass. I would spray and spray, but those little black and brown buggers would return in force.
It was a Kafkan nightmare. And to make things worse, Jose Perez was seized by the cops outside my place with possession of a hypo and some cocaine. He was arrested and will have to serve fifteen years. Wow, and he is only eight-teen years old.
So, I bitched high and loud like any good American to the landlord and was moved to this apartment, which was pretty much like the last except it didn't have any roaches. I might have caught two or three skittering across the floor, but it wasn't the amassed army as before.
Little Carlos has moved back with his mother, but a great relationship has started between us. With him we'd score for junk and spend the day high and in bed overworking the bed springs. Man, give that boy a little dope and he can fuck like a porn star for hours.
I am so happy to be back in Tijuana.
The Apartment is near the end of a blind alley that hardly receives any sun. The room itself contains a well worn queen sized bed with dark oak headboard with matching night stand. It has an amoire with full length mirror, a chair, a table and a window that looks out into the alley. The walls are painted a light mint and the floors have red tile. A ceiling fan wobbles above. The bathroom is wall to wall to floor white tiles and has a shower, porcelain sink, and a toilet. The old kind that has a latch you pull from above. The kitchen has a refrigerator from the '50's that still runs, sink area, stove, and metal table with two metal chairs. All furnishings can be considered antiques. Slightly worn. Not bad, I think, for $150.00 a month American currency.
Now, this is actually the second apartment. The first I received was consumed in cockroaches. At one point Gabriel, my strikingly hot friend who works at a restaurant called Taco Lucas came over; we drank Tecate beers and smoked a little weed. However, every time we'd sit our glasses down on the floor or the table, one of those little motherfuckers would do a Greg Luganis into our glass. I would spray and spray, but those little black and brown buggers would return in force.
It was a Kafkan nightmare. And to make things worse, Jose Perez was seized by the cops outside my place with possession of a hypo and some cocaine. He was arrested and will have to serve fifteen years. Wow, and he is only eight-teen years old.
So, I bitched high and loud like any good American to the landlord and was moved to this apartment, which was pretty much like the last except it didn't have any roaches. I might have caught two or three skittering across the floor, but it wasn't the amassed army as before.
Little Carlos has moved back with his mother, but a great relationship has started between us. With him we'd score for junk and spend the day high and in bed overworking the bed springs. Man, give that boy a little dope and he can fuck like a porn star for hours.
I am so happy to be back in Tijuana.
2 comments:
You sound more sane. And I am loving the pic. Are you sure you aren't secretly straight?
:P
Take care.
~K
just remember, roaches hold the key to surviving a nuclear war. I don't exactly know what the point is on what I just wrote. Take it for what it is - crazy talk.
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