Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Puta in Blue Jeans.

Awaken by the ruckus of the youngsters hired to paint the house - the landlady had hired them, you see and are doing a great, if noisy, job. Three good natured lads and not bad eye-candy, so it all works out. During these shenanigans, was visited by two acquaintances from the Plaza. Jonny - usually seen on the corner of said Plaza painted head to toe in silver and doing the robot gig for pesos thrown by passing locals and tourists. An intense 20yr old Honduran with not a lick of schooled education - that is if you don't count street schooling in which he excels.
Then there was Ivan, hunky guy also hailing from Honduras - both illegals everywhere, I reckon - and fluent in English. These two decided to visit for some wacky reason that would be revealed as the day progressed.
Ivan chatted with Chuck - the Master of this Manor - and asked if he could live in our house. Chuck confided in the boy it was a 'gay' house in which said lad stated that he didn't have a problem with it. I should say not - with the benefits of changing from some back alley hovel with a beach front hacienda, what was the problem? The idea of having the youngster in the house on a permanent kick made my mind move in insidious directions. Wouldn't you?
Fed the two grilled ham sandwiches and as soon as word was out that these were fags hording up in the house - the hustler gene in both blatantly spilled out. Ivan began to exercise and show off his physical prowess (As so, I snapped a picture of him) while Jonny went for the more subtle approach and just kept popping erections in his blue jean shorts all the while droning on and on about his sexual escapades with his various girl friends downtown.
Bored with this tripe (Me and Chuck) we all wandered outside in the shade of the house and talked and watched the painters work. Then, Jonny did the worst faux pau, at least on Chucks account - right in front of the group and God, little Jonny fell on the nod. Slumped over the chair, eyes fluttering, tongue lolling out...
I looked at Chuck and rolled my eyes - Chuck picked up on it, too. Ivan fumbled and sighed knowing full well that his cover was blown. He understood that using the house in the future as a shooting gallery with him and his friends were nipped in the bud. And so, the two junkies were asked to leave.
Actually, I guess I would have not of mined Ivan staying here...really a swell fellah. But, the other one would have been a to speak...

No comments: