Visited my friend Saul. He lives in the Old Colonias. Walking through the north-west side of Tijuana, that area favors anything for sheer poverty and filth. The sidewalks are garbage strewn and cracked, sad beat people shit in the street, rummage and eat from steaming mounds of rubbish, entrepreneurs cover all corners cooking up hideous, stinking messes of food that they sell to passerby. Old men blink in the sun, prostitutes look furtive and sad and the dark brown loin of the sleeping pimp swells rotting in syphilis.
As evening fell, Saul and I both were bored and I came up with the idea of visiting every bar we could and at each bar take a shot of tequila and move on to the next bar. We got pretty ripped up. Saul and I stumbled down Calle Primera, home to many seedy bars and whorehouses.
Ambivalent transvestite hookers drifted under yellow street lamps, eyes bright with methamphetamine, lean against outcroppings of crumbling red brick walls, talk in silent, catatonic gestures, frescoes of delicate depravity, flat two dimensional howls drift into the night: “Orale! Joselito! Carlos!”
Stagnant patter of commerce: “See the show. Naked lady.”
“Nice girl, meester?”
A hideous soiled mouth blows smoke rings into the night, “Wanna fuck me, baby?”
Saul and I went into the bar Kin-kle, a tacky queer joint in the Red Zone with a big over stuffed bullhead above red metal double swinging doors where guys would show you their erections for a beer. In the dark alcove booths of Kin-kle, drunk and horny, Saul and I made out under the watchful eye of a waiter with a hard on. Patrons passed us with indifference as I masturbated Saul to a climax under the table, his lanky body entwined with mine.
Later that night, Saul and I committed crimes against nature in the Hotel Coliseo, finding myself lying on my stomach with Saul on top thrusting into me, boy did I get the better end of the deal - slapslapslap - went his brown hips against my white ass. Lean arms wrapped around my torso and neck. My back is bitten passionately. My face pressed against the pillow - I feel Saul’s hot breath against my left ear as he gets closer to his climax. Closed my eyes and with clenched teeth felt his hot semen squirt up into me. Afterwards we shared a joint, our shoulders touching under the covers. Saul mumbled that he had to go and I watched as he covered his smooth brown frame with his well-worn clothes. After he left, I dressed listening to the whore earning her rent down the hall. At the corner, we shook hands and Saul went to do whatever Saul had to do.
Walking up from that cesspool of Coahuila - the Red Light District, Zona Norte, ignorant asshole - I turn the corner into Plaza Santa Cecilia accosted by screaming queers on all sides - and, man, they were out in force tonight - when a truckload of Tijuana fuzz gang fucks me.
Encircled by these menacing black uniformed stormtroopers, the little fat one asks where am I going and before I can answer barks for my identification. Tall, smooth cop explains in English - now get this: “We had a report of a white American that fits your description of buying drugs here in the plaza.”
“My description?”
“Si, senor - light hair, glasses, black clothes. May I have permission to search your person?”
Why not? You’re hot. So, up against the adobe wall and goosed - asked if I ever take drugs.
Never. Never? Never.
“We are just doing our job, senor - we are here to protect el turistas like you.” Says hot cop, giving me his One Adam 12 production as he empties my pockets, placing items on the filthy concrete. Opens wallet fat with peso notes all the colors of the rainbow.
Can kiss that wad goodbye, I thought. However, the troopers took nary centavo one and let me be with a cuidado and roared off in their Keystone Cops paddy wagon.
Casually lit a cigarette and walked into the darkness - teeming with the perverse and sexual predators, the thumpthumpthump of the queer bars rattling in my skull. Cute Aztec Indian lad smiles hand out for the soft touch. I drop a fist full of coins into his calloused hand. Have always been a sucker for a pretty face. Stopped in a cantina and downed two quick beers - nasty hooker cooch eying me and I give her the leave me the fuck alone back.
Shuffled back to Carlos’ trap on case that my stomach was aching. Hope it ain’t ulcers.