Chaos is weird.
Jumping through hoops of the myriad Kafkian regulations at St. Vincent's since obtaining employment, one of the requirements was to get a xerox copy of your schedule with a letterhead of your employer to prove you are working there - easier said than done. The unibrowed boss of mine decided to secrete testosterone and flat out refuse giving me a copy. I explained to this degenerate monkey the dire situation but it fell on deaf ears - having a job or a place to stay was the choice. With his curt no the deal was shut and I quit on the hairy bastard. That's what I get for lowering my standards.
Decided it was time to stop screwing around and take matters into my own hands - after these dreary holidays to attain employment more befitting my stature is in order. I came to San Diego for a purpose and I can not and will not deflect from these goals.
Christmas at the shelter was a joke - crazy assortment of lost angels - angels in hell, broken dirty wings. Half cooked meals served by paranoid vindictive Christians to bestial hostile downtrodden. Well, the apple pie was good. Walking around, reek of vomit and piss in the streets - sun blasting down and what the fuck good deed doers would swoop up in cars and pass out coats, blankets, money - I got nothing. Ho. Ho. Ho.
Ate so much at dinner I walked it off - went up to Balboa Park and meandered the dark paths among the creatures of the night. The cool night air and the navy blue sky soothed my loneliness as I slowly strolled along swaying palm trees - dark shadows lurking in the bushes, the nights cruisers. Here and there was the orange flicker of a cigarette cherry or the tip of a crack pipe.
Approached by a small handsome Mexican in a hoodie, obviously living in the streets, "Hey, man, you got a dollar?"
"No - I do not." I state flatly.
He is with friend, who stands quietly. The little guy smiles, "C'mon! You got some change, man - I just want to get a beer."
I look at him and he is really handsome. I sigh, turn to walk away. He grabs my arm and whispers, "Hey, dude, you like to suck cock?"
I smile and pat him on the shoulder, "You do need another beer, my friend." And walk away.
Sat on a cold concrete bench under the stars and under a bought of depression listening to the highway breathing. Thought about Jeff. Oh yes, Dear Readers - you have no idea who he is yet do you? Well, let's just say that is another blog dedicated solely to him. But, I sat and I thought of him never the less - how I feel about him. How much I love him. How important it was for me to get down to Costa Rica - yes, that is where he is. So many mixed feelings about this - so many...
I got up and walked around to find that hooded Mexican standing on the sidewalk in the shadows with some guy bent over sucking his cock. I stopped a few feet away and watched - wouldn't you? Well the Mystery Man saw me freaked and split leaving little hoody standing there with a glistening erection in the moonlight.
"Didya like the show?" He asked walking up to me sliding said penis back into his well worn baggy jeans. I confided I did and we stood there for a bit and talked. He explained that he really needed a beer but didn't have an I.D. to purchase one. I agreed to buy the booze for him with my identification. After the purchase of two Steel Reserves and two King Cobras, we retired to his spot: a spreading chestnut tree next to an offramp to the 5 freeway.
I guess it was his way of thanking me, but not a second after he popped open a can, he was on his back propped up against the tree with his pants yanked down to his ankles - his long uncut cock pulsating hard. "You know, buddy," He said guzzling the Steel Reserve. "For helping me out, I'm gonna let you go down on me for free."
I looked down onto his hairless copper colored torso - it was thin and muscular. My eyes flickered over his flesh with silent insect lust. I sighed - looking up at the starry sky and focused onto the belt of Orion - wonder if Orion wore panties under that belt?
"Nope." I said. "For two reasons: one - you need a shower and two - there isn't a health clinic nearby."
"Ya sure?" He smiled. "I'm real horny - not asking again."
"Pull your pants up kid." I grinned.
The next hour we sat there under the tree in the dark, lit only by the occasional headlight and drank and talked and laughed. Eventually, I had to leave on account of the shelter's curfew and said goodnight - never even got the boys name. Walking back, I thought how much I have changed this past year - so much. Is it for the good or bad?