For the first time since I moved, I decided to take a stroll through my neighborhood. Unlike most of downtown, where many buildings resemble a post-war burn out, my neighborhood remains mostly untouched by the raping of the various cartels who, thankfully, moved on to more lucrative cities.
Walking down quiet streets, I was amazed at how not one structure resembled any other. Each house and building was unique. A far cry from the cookie-cutter mentality stateside. I whipped out my camera and snapped a few shots of places that caught my eye.
On another front, I was happy to find a couple blocks away a small coffee shop which also provided free wi-fi! It is called Cafe 656 and is quite pleasant. To be sure, there are internet cafe's on almost every corner in downtown and all with minimal fees, but, I like to sit with a good cup of joe and work on my computer and write with my machine and was relieved when I found this place.
As a fact, as of this writing, I'm at my new office (Cafe 656) and these fucking Americans just walked in. They were here yesterday morning, too. They have that look of complete bitter assholism which every American wears. The cafe is small, only three tables and a coffee bar. Today, I arrived early and sat at the table the three Americans were in yesterday. All locals enter saying "Good Morning/buenas dia" to everyone, in stereotypical contrast, the Yanks look around with that snotty-ass look common to gringo's in a foreign land and sit silently. When they first walked in, the glance at me was of such utter detestment. I just took up my cup and slurped it loudly, savoring their discontent.
I am editing a short story (26 pages) entitled "Room 626". It will replace the story "Hobosexual" in the my novel Dark is the Night. I strongly think Hobosexual would be a great stand alone work. Something to do this summer while I am making up my mind what to do. I guess.