Stood outside the Sante Fe Bar smoking so close to the streets the passing buses chugging by almost knocked me down. The sun just dropped below the horizon and the cool sky still had a light orange glow. I was feeling pretty lit after downing three quick beers.
I looked down the colorless street and saw my old friend Patrick stumbling my way - as soon as his eyes focused on who I was was he bound and lept towards me like a giggling school boy. Much handshaking and backslapping and whatever-happened-to-so-and-so's.
I'd known Pat for going on six years now from my various stays at the mish - handsome little boy look to his face gone rugged from too much drink and harsh climates. He wore a denim blue jacket with a racing emblem on the back, blue jeans, sneakers, baseball cap - your usual hobo attire. He was still handsome, but his black goatee had specks of gray in it as did his short cropped hair.
He was Mexican, but born and raised in Kansas and like much of the residence of this town drifted down here on that insidious current of bad luck and bring downs. He was a loser just trying to make it by, just like me.
He stated in his thick country drawl that he had just gotten jumped by three young hoods and his back was hurtin' somthin' fierce. I invited him in for a drink.
We sat at the bar - populated by the dredged and forlorn regulars, all alkies like me, now I suppose. Pat slurped his drink and went into a tale of how a few days back him and some girl were holed up in a hotel living, drinking, arguing like so many heterosexual fuck ups. The police were somehow involved and his girl, Jennifer obviously was a wild cat - she drunken off her mind - beat up a cop. Swarmed by the other cops, as cops do, clubbed and beat the shit out of her and tossed her in the back of a squad car screaming and kicking. Pat was hauled off too by associated proximity. He continued on how he and her didn't really give a fuck about the situation and even made out on the way to the precinct.
Pat was released after 24hrs in the drunk tank but, as we both agreed, Jennifer will be in a little bit longer.
"Wow, that's some heavy Jerry Springer shit." I stated gulping another throat full of beer.
He went all gooey and cooed, "I luv er, man - she's muh life."
The night continued and watched Pat whip the ass in billiards this drunken macho who just crossed over from Chihuahua - kept thumping my chest, swaying with his mug, "I'm from Chihuahua, cabrone." Getting real tired of that stupid macho bullshit.
Pat got real wasted - falling asleep and stumbling in his chair. The bartender threw us both out.
"I got no where to go." He said as we stood on the side walk outside Sante Fe.
I sighed and said, "Come on."
I latched the key to my lock and opened the door with my shoulder. We stepped into the room bathed in shadows. I turned on a lamp, put on some music. Pat flopped onto my bed with a groan. I went to the refrigerator and pulled out two cans of beer, handing him one all the while staring at his cock poking up out of his jeans. It wasn't hard - it just did that all the time. I mentioned that last we took a shower together at the mish, I must admit he did have a sexy dick. He just smiled and casually brushed his hand over his groin saying, "Man, shut up with that shit."
"You look tired, let's get some sleep." I said.
We finished our beers and got undressed and crawled under the gray comforter. I heard him softly snore as I lay there watching the lights from passing cars crawl across the ceiling. He turned and threw a leg over mine. My hand slowly inched up to his shorts and felt his already stiff cock. He stirred and sighed. I continued to slowly stroke his organ - thick, long, uncut - a pearl of precum formed at the tip. His breathing got heavier as he kept his eyes closed. I slid under the blanket and took the hard on in my mouth and started stroking up and down. It stiffened more, his hips moving slightly.
pat pulled me back up and turned me on my side with my back to him. He slid my boxers off as with his and with slow force, slid his cock into me. Hugging me firmly from behind, he thrust and lunged until I felt his penis stiffen and swell spurting his semen deep into me.
We lay there for a while in silence. I got up to wash in the bathroom and when I returned, Pat was curled up snoring softly away.
Next morning, the hot yellow rays burst through the blinds of my apartment that I am sure smelled of dirty denim and soiled socks and stale beer. I put on my shorts, got out of bed and prepared instant pancakes for us both. Pat woke - stretched his short torso and said "Mornin'" With a devilish grin.
I handed him a cup of coffee, "What are you going to do today?"
"I gotta go to the city jail and visit, Jen. I hafta find a way of gettin' our shit outta the hotel room." He takes a sip of coffee and scowls, "damn, why do women gotta bring along so much shit? I gotta back pack - that's it. She's got like five huge bags."
I grabbed his soft penis, "Women are not a necessity in this world anymore. Not now that we have cloning technology."
He gently pushes my hand away and goes to the bathroom. :After breakfast, I gotta go." I hear as he relieves his bladder.
After breakfast, we part on the corner shaking hands and telling each other laterz. I turn and stare at the vista of Juarez across from the Rio Grande, the mountain range, the harsh blue sky and wonder why I am still here.