Desolation Angels

Dressed to the ninths and tenths, Ricardo and I entered the Cafe Central, a 24hr restaurant located on Avenida Revo in downtown Tijuana to meet with Esperanza Robles and others. Esperanza, or Espie, was another long time friend from my old days of living here. A beautiful college girl studying Economics at the University in Tijuana. So smart and so wild.
Espie smiled her smile big under that giant red poster of Che that bore down on us like some communist Big Brother. Clinking coffee cups with her was another chic chick named Maria and Espie's boitoy for the evening, Manuel. A real hottie, sporting one of those pencil thin moustaches that I love so much and jet black hair slicked back. All three looked like models offa runway from some foreign competition. Hugs and kisses and what ever happened to so and so's issued and Espie invited the whole lot to a house party up in the hills, in the Old Colonias -Tijuana style.
From the back of this party taxi the city whizzed past. At the end of San Letran is the last series of bars that end in a ruined mist, fields of broken adobe, no bums hidden, all wood, Downtrodden Dank, with sewers and puddles, ditches in the street five feet deep with oily water in the bottom. Powdery tenements against the yellow light of the nearby city. I watch the final sad bar doors, where flashes of women golden shining lace behind I see and feel like flying in yet like a bird in flight twists on. Kids are in the doorway in hip-hop drag, the band is wailing a chachacha inside, everybody's knee is knocking to bend as they pop and wail with the mad music.
Taxi halts in front of two story teetering onna cliff and folks are coming and going and the music is loud. Espie takes my hand and leads me inside. Gorgeous people stand and pose with drinks and cigarettes in hand. Mostly queer with a splatter of women. But so many good looking people. Even the tough tattooed cholos standing alone - hot. There is a bar and a DJ mixes and mashes several beats of continents smooth and simple. She introduces me to several people who all ohh and aah at the American. Ricardo makes his rounds being suave and adorable. Drinks were non-stop and a handsome Mexican Indian led me out back were he shared some weed. Timid and cute. Behind a crumbling wooden shed we embraced in fumes of ganja, our tongues probing, our souls lusting. The rest are only anecdotes that will become rumors.
A tune by Cafe Tecuba wailed over the stereo, Ricardo found us and slurred, lank black hair falling over big brown eyes, "Damn those crazy Tecubas - don't they sound like the Beach Boys?"
"Yeah, but very much into the Jaraneros sound", answered my secret lover. He squeezes my hand and smiles. I found out his name was Jaime and he stayed by my side the rest of the evening. The music pounded and we danced, we ate, we partied. We smoked more weed. Some cholo covered in interesting tattoos offered me some coke in the bathroom. Snort---wheeee!!!
Through foggy hangover, these are the highlights of that evening:
I made the off kilter comment that Mexicans generally have small penises. I was taken upstairs by an irate hottie and proven wrong - showed the bestest of the mostest ya'll. Espie's wild erotic lezbo dance with Maria and some other drunken girl. The WWF Transvestite Smackdown between two titanic drunk trannies fighting over a vaquero. Made quite a scene. Ricardo pissing in the potted plant in the parent's bedroom. The continuous flow of booze and coke.
The cool people and new friendships that were forged.
Ricardo, Espie, Manuel and myself all retired to my apartment at 3:30 in the morning giddy and drunk. Manuel and Espie sat on the couch sipping martinis made by yours truly while Ricardo browsed through my CD collection. Would you stop playing that damn Rings of Fire over and over again! We sat up a bit and talked about politics, The Jetsons, and Oreo Cookies. All four of us crashed on my queen size bed.
Okay, next morning, I wake up to Ricardo sitting butt-naked on my couch - laughing - and watching Ed Wood’s Plan 9 from Outer Space. In the other room, Manuel and Espie are obviously auditioning to be porn stars because all I saw was bouncing boobs and balls. So, I blew Ricardo while he watched Plan 9 and after every one was satisfied, Espie cooked us up a big mess of chorizo y juevos. Love that gal!
The gang showered and dressed and we took a Sunday stroll through the Market and ate the best tacos - ever. There was a little rock concert going on and we stopped and jammed to the throbbing tunes. Ricardo still had a roach stashed in his leather coat and we passed it around to the knowing smile of an elderly man. The sun swung through the sky and we all said our goodbyes and parted. I stopped into the Internet Cafe to pound this out. I am so glad to have good friends like these.