I hadn’t gone out last Thursday night, I was staying in and finishing up the book Borrowed Flesh that’s due like - two weeks, really. I had gotten a couple of publishing companies interested and they some time crunching bitches!
And I understand that I’ve been neglecting my blog like a total pendejo and I also totally get the irony: how no one would have ever asked me to write a book if it wasn’t for the blog and now that I spend all of my writing time on the book I’ve been ignoring this blog. But I never said I was perfect. I’m actually having a really good time writing the book. At times it’s been really hard and I’ve totally doubted that I had the ability to write it. But then I’ll print out what I’ve written so far and go to a café and read it, just like I imagine real writers doing - but I imagine them doing it in more glamorous locales like Paris or Tangier – and I'll read it and be like wow, this isn’t half bad, it’s actually pretty fucking good. So I’m proud of the way it’s coming out and I promise to pay more attention to the blog – like full time writing attention – once the book is done. I have nightmares about missing the deadline but I actually have no idea what they would do. I mean it’s not like they’re going to send Tony Soprano after me or anything. But I won’t miss it. And then I’ll be all over my blog again.
So - I decided to go out - and I mean all out - Friday night at the bar's here in El Paso. Even invited that neanderthal Tony - all expenses paid, I told 'em. We first cruised over to the Whatever Bar and had pitcher after pitcher yukking it up and being goofy. All fun until we were buzzed by one of his goddamn trannie friends. Skank plopped down at our table and decided to guzzle all my beer and smoke all my cigarettes all the while being a bitter old thing. These cute guys came out onto the patio and one was checking me out when this cross-dressing mess started a screaming match with them - over nothing. Your usual trannie bullshit. After that embarrassment - had to sit there and listen to her quack on about how she hates her drug addiction and the fact she gotta sell that flabby ass to make rent. Too much. After I mentioned something to the fact that when the fourth or fifth pitcher was empty, my money had ran out. Poof! That skank was gone in a puff of methamphetamine smoke.
So much for making a first good impression on these faggots.
Next up, pleasant talk with old coot that knew Juarez well and had established a tour to the unethical whorehouses for wayward American truckers. However, some black guy - shit faced drunk and high offa god knows what - that knew said coot, sat at our table screaming and rambling as any good ghetto rat should. Man decided he wanted to give me a massage - standing behind me and giving the worst massage ever while rubbing his big and nasty against my shoulder. Getting the jitters - I told Tony let's split.
On a hunt for smokes - we found our way to the Greyhound Terminal and Tony talked to three trannie prostitutes of past acquaintance. All three asked if I was looking for something. Ugh.
Hungry - we clomped over to Micky D's, but being closed; Tony and I decided to order through the drive thru. However, of course two skanky ass heroin addicted trannies shuffled up and screaming and fiending over Tony - old friends, you understand.
I pretty much had enough of these beasts and walked off. I explained to Tony my hatred for these ugly she-men and then - well - we got into a drunken scuffle on that empty dark street under that big pale moon. A few slugs. A lot of yelling. Cursing. Stalemate - I walked away and tromped over to Chiquita's and had a few Coronas wherein met this handsome Mexican guy - it was his birthday. So I bought him a beer and the flirting commenced. He confided that he wanted to do it. You know - it.
When the bar closed though, he mentioned that he was going to drive a friend home - I said sure no problem whatever and stumbled the few blocks home. Two blocks from my house, said birthday boy pulls up in his truck and invites me in. Wouldn't you?
We pull into parking by my apartment. Drunken patter between us. Kissing. Petting. I yank down his pants and start blowing him. Right in the middle of it - dork asks to use my cell phone to call his pusher. Unblinking, I bid him a good night and return to my home.
Seriously - am I the only faggot in El Paso that is NOT addicted to some form of dope?