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I feel a hot wind, on my shoulder, and dial it in when south of the border.


dave32

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Been doing contract work in San Diego last few months. Saturday 7/2 was my last day there. Had my passport on me and was thinking about driving over to TJ.

 

Asked a couple of my Latino compadres if they wanted to do a border crossing after work and the response was: no way. Too fucked up over there now.

 

And these guys aren't softies.

 

Their last piece of advice was --> if you really wanna go, don't go alone. Take someone who speaks Spanish and knows the area (negative on both counts for me).

 

Ahhh well. So be it. Looks like it's not in the cards. So I'm driving up the 5 back towards LA and make it as far as Carlsbad and this nagging voice in my mind keeps berating me: you fucking chickenshit. How can you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow if you're afraid to travel alone? Pathetic.

 

And this bothered me. Baaaah!

 

Turned the car around. Took the 5 then the 805 straight to the border. Now it's dark. Parked the car in a paid lot and walked across, texted a couple friends to f/u with me in the morning.

 

Used to cross all the time, but the mass violence in the last couple years has made it less appealing. And I've never gone over alone. So I'm a little high strung.

 

Used to get mobbed at the border by kids begging for money and a small militia of kitsch dealers and petty hustlers. Now there's a lot of cops and soldiers carrying machine guns. People's faces are a little greyer.

 

Grab a taxi. "Where to Amigo?"

 

"Adelitas" I reply. "OK sir." And we're off.

 

Now if you don't know or never been... Adelitas is just like this ---> literally. Sans the vampires.

 

 

Anyway, cab drops me off out front, and I'm pretty high strung when I walk into the bar. That's an understatemet. I need to fucking chill. But, I'm also surrounded by absolutely fucking gorgeous women. And they exude fucking sex.

 

Need a drink. Or 3. Tecate. Dos Equis. Tecate. Ok.

 

Yeah. So this one lass I've been observing is like a fucking 17 on a scale of 1 to 10. My god. The subtle tension I feel over there probably contributes to my state of mind. But I want to hook up with her. I have a singular purpose and focus in life and everything else melts away. I mean this is a bird you wank to on a lonely night, and I have already a couple times.

 

So I slide on over. A little chit chat. She's not shy. Next thing I know I'm being dragged outside then upstairs.

 

And it's good. $60 usd. 11 for a half hour room. There's no negotiating or anything like that. A couple bucks to tip the hallway dudes. I monger rarely so this is genuinely exciting shit for me.

 

I come back down feeling relieved, spent, excited, and not ready to leave just yet.

 

A few more beers and I strike up a conversation with a Mexi-Americano sitting next to me. Old guy, intelligent, laid back. Good conversation. He works in healthcare and we actually have a couple common acquaintances.

 

A few more beers. This guys tells me he's low on cash -- I offer him 20 to get a couple more drinks and he says he's got a little bit, don't worry.

 

I'm about ready to leave when she catches my eye. Marisol was her name. Jesus Christ she was all woman, I mean my draw dropped to the fucking floor when I saw her. Tan. Hard body. Hip hugger jeans and bikini top.

 

She approaches with a subtle smile. "Buy me a drink?"

 

I comply.

 

A little conversation and she tries to coax me upstairs. I tell her I want to but can't. No more Pesos Bonita. "Ahhh Papi."

 

But my comrade at the bar is evidently listening and taps me on the shoulder. Pssst. "You need some money to go upstairs?"

 

"Huh?"

 

So this dude reaches into one of his socks and hands me a 100. "Dont' worry, you can get me next time"

 

"huh - I thought you were low on cash?"

 

"Don't worry man, I've got more, I always tell people I don't have much when I come down here."

 

This makes me a little wary and suspicous as I just met this cat an hour prior.

 

But, lust got the best of me.

 

Next thing you know I'm headed upstairs again. And life was good.

 

And then headed back downstairs. And I'm fucking tired and sober and ready to go home. And it's 4am.

 

And the old-timer is waiting oustide when I come down smoking a cig. We share a cab to the border. Hit the taco stand. Walk across. I pledge to pay him back next time and he rolls his eyes and says not to worry.

 

And then I have this awful drive back to LA. The sun comes up. I've got to pull over and piss several times.

 

Finally, I walk into my apartmet and collapse on the couch, clothes, shoes, everything on, I'm too tired to undress or care. And I sleep wonderfully. The sleep of fucking kings.

 

Then I call up my mates on Sunday and grab some Korean Tofu.

 

I probably won't be back to Tijuana anytime soon, but...

 

Yeah. So be it.

 

:)

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Haven't been to TJ in over 20 years. In fact, haven't been to Mexico in over 20 years.

 

In the 60's and 70's, made many trips without incident. (Some friends weren't so fortunate, but they lived through their experiences.)

 

I could tell stories all day about TJ/border crossings from those days. But even Marisol offering me a free bbbj couldn't get me to go over there now. 555555555

 

HH

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Excellent report but why travel with so little money? :dunno:

 

Well, good question. Normally - in the past - I would (have more resources). But now most of my money gets diverted into an am account I don't touch unless emergency. No ATM for it, etc.

 

That's the 'LOS for one year' account. Almost there. I've got one of those 'one year and a wake up' calendars going where I X off the days till I leave my job. Flash probably knows what those are.

 

I'm living like I was in college again. And it works. Wouldn't have even gone to TJ but had a little extra in my pocket from expense per diem in San Diego.

 

:)

 

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