Walking up from that cesspool of Coahuila - Zona Norte, (the Red Light District, ignorant asshole, keep focused) - I turned the corner into the Plaza and was accosted by screaming queers on all sides and I tell you were they out in force tonight - when a truckload of Tijuana fuzz gang fucks me.
Encircled by menacing, black uniformed stormtroopers, a pint-sized fat one asked where was I going and before I could answer, barks for my identification.
Tall, smooth cop explained in English - now get this: “We had a report of a white American who fits your description buying drugs here in the Plaza.”
“Si, senor, light hair, glasses, black clothes. May I have permission to search your person?”
Why not? You’re hot. So, up against the adobe wall and goosed - asked if I ever take drugs.
“We are just doing our job, senor - we are here to protect la turistas such as yourself.” Says hot cop, giving me his One Adam 12 production as he empties my pockets, placing my articles on the dirty concrete. Opens wallet fat with peso notes all the colors of the rainbow.
Can kiss that wad goodbye, I thought.
However, the troopers took nary centavo one and let me be with a cuidado and roared off in their Keystone Cops paddy wagon.
Casually lit a cigarette and walked into the darkness teeming with perverse and sexual predators, the thump thump of the queer bars rattling in my skull. Cute Aztec Indian lad smiled with dirty palm out for the soft touch. I dropped a fist full of coins into his calloused hand. Always been a sucker for a pretty face.
Stopped in a cantina and downed two quick beers - nasty hooker cooch eyes me and I give her the leave me the fuck alone glance back.
Old Mexican drunk with thick black mustache and deranged look in his bleary eyes snapped, “Leave! You don’t belong here!”
“Man, you don’t even know me. What did I do to you?”
“I just don’t like you.” The old drunk snarled and explodes into a mosaic of glitter and confetti. “Ugly American!” He screams before being sucked into the darkness of a toilet stall glory hole.