Sitting across from us was a group of heroin junky cholos and their two bitches. Much chit-chat about the three attractive ones – the cholos I mean. There was one that was sitting directly in front of me with shaven head, wife beater, and baggy black pants – real hot except for the chunky beeotch that clung to him like a deformed monkey. However, as the old vato gangster with weary eyes and drooping moustache with the boom box blasted oldies – this younger cat kept eyeing me tugging at his crotch and popping a boner. But alas, their bus showed up and the whole troupe left with it.
It would have been a peaceful day in the plaza if that asshole about town William Wiggins did’t pollute my gaze with his presence – why? I hate him so much for treating me so bad for nothing. My only satisfaction is that his life is truly shitty – living at the O.C., unemployed, and contracted chlamydia. Brilliant.
Bubba – who knows of this loudmouth pretty boy – wanted to start shit, but I explained that if anything started, I would go to jail for murder – my hatred for Wiggins is that intense. Dear Reader, you know what a savage wildcat I can become in a fight. Luckily nothing came of it.
So the boy watching continued and the stories of sexual conquests and the ungodly heat. Bubba – who reminded me of myself years ago, had no qualms of talking to handsome boys who walked by on the way to the bus stop. One green eyed Mexican guy – who is extremely handsome in a model kind of way and is known for selling his wares in the public mensroom – walked by and Bubba blurted out, “Hot! You’re hot!”
“What the fuck does that mean?” He growled back.
Without missing a beat, Bubba returned, “Whataya think it means? You’re hot – shit!”
The guy just stormed away. Oh well – we all just laughed it off. Bubba and I made a date to visit Banos Roma in Cuidad Juarez in Mexico next Tuesday – can’t wait to see how that pans out.
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