Another Luis Blasini moment at the bar: A young Mexican immigrant looking motherfucker sitting alone. Handsome. Homeless. Insane, Heroin junky. Sat shivering and scratching sipping the beer I bought him and droning on and on how he could use a shot. He gets extra friendly when I mention I got my own digs. Needed a place to crash. I tell him how it is.
"What? You a faggot?" He laughs.
"Yup" I smile between gulps of beer.
Passing hours of sexual innuendo.
The time out back smoking clenched it - the Latin Adonis puking up the chips I bought, cascading steamy streams of pinks and transparent yellows - cursing his existence, cursing queers in general over his first cigarette by yours truly. I make my escape into the still chill of the night. Oh, how I can pick them! Left that fucker sitting alone as cha-cha music blared from the rockola, left alone to his beautiful, sad. beat dementia...