Saturday, February 07, 2015

no more. no mas...

Marlon. He had his chance. As with all faded memories. He had his chance and blew it. Five years ago was actually the last time I fully opened my heart to someone and true to form they spat on it and threw it aside all in the name of not being connected to that 'faggoty life'. Ignorant macho fucks. Time passed. I got over it. How? From the only way I knew, I wrote about it. Parts of Puta were a conglomerate of both this cat named Javier and Marlon.
When I left Juarez that time; I was under the impression I would never return. As we all realize, through misadventures and bad timing, I came back on several occasions. Marlon, in my absence, had relocated to Chihuahua City, gotten married, had a baby son. His life as a homosexual apparently did not coincide with the macho culture. His decision alone and quit frankly, I couldn't care less.
Spring ahead half a decade to my current stay south of the border. He seeks me out - simply to say howdy. We sit in a coffee shop and exchange pleasantries, bland, stilted patter of what-ever-happened-to-so-and-so's. Once more, I couldn't care less. He was safely 800 kilometers south and not too much of a bother. That was until he and his family relocated to Juarez two weeks ago. Now the schlup won't leave me the fuck alone. I had on more than one occasion expressed my feeling in how I did not wish to associate with him, on how the emotions which I held for him are now long dead and buried. He won't have it, though. You see, Marlon's ego is his hindrance. In lieu of his well-sought after enormous penis and handsome looks, he is a predator of the well off gay expatiates residing in this town, he harbors the opinion that every faggot in this city will come at his beckon call.
I do not include myself among those ranks.
Unfortunately, he had found out were I lived through an acquaintance and now the motherfucker visits everyday. Why? He is one of those Mexicans who not only hates Mexicans, but enjoys rubbing in the faces of the local population that he is somehow on a higher tier on account he has Americans for friends. I know his type. Not my first time running into his kind. And for me it is detestable. I cannot stand being around him, yet he will not take no for an answer - and believe me in the last few days I had went out of my way to be difficult with him.
Today, as I was turning the corner returning to my house from walking around downtown, I find the creep outside my place waiting for me. I harshly explained to Marlon I wished to spend the evening alone. I suggested for him to return to his house and enjoy the Saturday evening with his wife and baby son. Marlon did not take it too well and stomped away in sulky petulance. I sincerely hope my message was received loud and clear this go around...

4 comments:

Unknown said...

What you have to say about our shared experiences reminds me that individuals with a life force will survive, and that the user will reap the whirlwind.

LMB said...

I can only hope. And without hope, I am nothing.

Anonymous said...

Dealing with Mexican hustlers has reduced me to feeling nothing, except fear and loathing.

LMB said...

You're preaching to the pulpit, Anon. I have grown cold and dissolute concerning them. It was a rather intriguing diversion in the early times...but now? Now, my patience has utterly dissipated.