Saturday, 3/23/02

Note to self: On future trips... never again set up an itinerary in which my last day in TJ is a Saturday.

I slept in once again this morning. I knew that I had a full agenda for today, a lot of things to get done, and I wanted to be well rested. On previous trips, I've had a problem with jet lag; that wasn't the case this time.

It was 12:30 or thereabouts when I drove through the gate into World Parking. I couldn't believe how full the lot was. I had to park on the far side of the lot, about as distant from the border gate as you could possibly get.

After passing through the heavy metal turnstiles and crossing the yellow line that marked the actual border, I decided to try something a little different. Instead of walking straight through to the taxi stand, I made the right turn about halfway through the pedestrian corridor. I figured a warm, breezy Saturday afternoon would be a good time to make the trip to the Zona Norte on foot for the first time.

I had plenty of company; there were numerous pedestrians heading for Revo, and the majority of them were gringos. I found this reassuring. I traversed the Viva Tijuana shopping plaza. When I got to the crosswalk over the river, vendors hawking their mostly useless goods beckoned me to come over and take a look. These street vendors line the path for the remainder of the way.

The view from the top of the bridge is impressive. I descended the ramp on the other side, then followed my fellow travelers across the street.

"Brockton O'Toole said I'm not supposed to be doing this," I thought to myself as I passed more of those street vendors. But I encountered nothing in the way of danger as I walked up Articulo 123 to the arch.

The arch wasn't yet completed the last time I was in TJ. Viewed from close up, I think it's incredibly tacky. But when seen from afar, it's not unattractive. I particularly like the view on I-805 South about a mile north of the border.

I had no intentions of negotiating "ratero central", so I turned left at the arch. Besides, I wanted to drop by the internet cafe under Azteca Massage.

The walk in was ridiculously easy. I was actually a little disappointed; I thought I would be undertaking something brave and adventuresome. True, you always need to keep your guard up in TJ. But I won't even think twice about doing it again, at least in the daytime. After dark, of course, is a different story.

A quick email check, and I was on my way to the Zona, and my ultimate destination was a predictable one. It was about 2:00 when I arrived in front of the curtains at AB.

No sooner had I stepped inside and let my eyes adjust, when I spotted Candi departing through the curtains with a customer. It was the third time in four days I saw her going upstairs immediately upon my arrival at AB.

So, the first item on my agenda was pushed off until later, and in fact, I never would get a chance to approach Candi that day. Maybe on my next trip I'll finally have the opportunity to experience her magic in the room.

I passed through the back and was greeted by a very pretty brunette in a glamorous solid black pants suit. She introduced herself as Livier and proceeded to launch into a rapid-fire sales pitch in mixed Spanish-English. I got decidedly mixed vibes from Livier, however, so I declined.

I spotted Maribel across the bar. She presented a dilemma for me. Immediately following the wonderful encounter that kicked off this visit, repeating with Maribel was a high priority. But my agenda had changed since then, and that second Maribel session had fallen far down my to-do list. I knew if she approached me, I'd have to say no.

Over by the DJ enclosure, in the booth adjacent to it, I stopped in my tracks. A petite, brown-haired chica (whom I later identified as Samira) was standing on the table and putting on an impromptu demonstration. There was quite a little group of onlookers, and they were watching her, spellbound. She was clutching a lighted cigarette... between her labia. I can honestly say that in my usual sheltered existence, that's not something I see every day. Impressive!

Later, I saw Samira putting on another show in that same booth... dancing seductively on top of the table, fingering herself and licking her own nipple. She is a spunky little thing with a creatively slutty attitude.

Back in the area of Hottie Central, I ogled Monserrat from behind. She was wearing a skin-tight striped dress that accentuated her amazing body. Her long hair is gorgeous. As I'm typing this, I'm kicking myself for not approaching her at that particular time.

I sat down, had a coke and did some more people-watching; then got up and began to move about. I saw Candi, who was back downstairs, talking with Monserrat. Livier was nearby. Also in the vicinity was Maribel. Bad karma all around, so I thought it best to get out of Dodge. At least for a few minutes. I headed outside and strolled around for a bit.

But as soon as I reentered AB, Maribel flagged me down. As gently as I could, I rebuffed her advances, saying I was tired. What a lame excuse.

She wasn't buying it, not in the least. She began to ask me again if I liked her or not. Maybe she was playing the guilt-trip card, but I get the impression that Maribel is a sensitive girl who doesn't handle rejection very well. I offered to buy her a drink, anyhow. She flat-out refused, and walked away.

I suppose you can say that you've truly become an AB vet when despite good intentions, you have a chica pissed at you.

Just when I thought I couldn't feel any lower, who should appear but the omnipresent Teresa. Her rejection count had reached eight; she held up eight fingers to confirm that fact. To her immense credit, the smile never left her face as she told me, "Next time, okay?" There wouldn't be a next time.

It was getting more crowded in AB as mid-afternoon became late afternoon. Over near the DJ booth, I was greeted by my bud Angela. She squeezed my hand, and proceeded to read my mind. "You are waiting for Elisa?" she asked me. I just smiled.

"She will be here later tonight," Angela continued. Of course, I knew that already. But looking back, I realize her previous statement was right on. I was, in a sense, waiting for Elisa. How else to explain the fact that I had stayed in AB for three hours, on my last day in TJ, and had not made a move to take a girl upstairs? And as I've documented here, there was certainly no lack of desirable ladies in attendance.

I made one final circuit of the bar, determined to find Maribel and try to set things straight. I found her near the large-screen TV in the back. "I'm leaving now and won't be back till late tonight," I told her. That would be well after the end of her shift. "This is my last day here."

She gave me a kiss and patted me on the cheek. "Nice meeting you," she told me. She is a sweet lady who I hope I'll see again.

I departed through the curtains, knowing I'd be back later that evening for the grand finale.

The sky had become overcast and in fact, looked quite threatening off to the west. Still, I had some time to kill before the big event at Las Pulgas in a few hours, so I took one more side trip into the alley.

An older, not especially attractive (that's being kind) street girl walked up to me and touched my arm. "Wanna fuck?" she asked. My experience in dealing with street girls is very limited, but I can already see that they are an entirely different breed from the bar girls I've spent all of my time with.

On this late Saturday afternoon, there were many more SG's on hand than during my earlier alley cruise. Upon arriving at the end of the alley, I moved to turn right, when my eyes beheld the dreaded Kinkle Bar. I chuckled to myself as I remembered the "stand up to tinkle" limerick. But as I viewed the individuals cavorting around outside, I realized that the greater the distance between me and that place, the happier I'd be. So I did an about-face and headed back into the alley.

I hadn't gone very far when Texas Mike found me again. My first impulse was to blow right past him. But as several have written, you never know when you might find yourself in a bind in the Zona, and might need friends in the right places. So I slowed up for a minute, while he gave the exact same spiel I had heard the other day, word for word. I have to admit, I declined his request for "compensation" this time. I told him I was meeting some friends over on Revo (hey, that was the truth!) and walked off. Amazingly enough, he gave up the chase and didn't follow me.

It was 6:30. I headed down Revo, for I wanted to locate a few business establishments I may want to patronize on future trips. I turned left onto the side streets, and eventually found the Villa de Zaragoza Hotel. For the money, it doesn't look like a bad place at all. If staying in TJ is an option for me next time, that's where I'll get a room.

I had dinner at a nearby restaurant, Ricardo's. It's a reasonable place… large menu, decent prices, large portions. I made my way back over to Revo where I "utilized" the upstairs rest room at the Mexicoach station. Those large handicapped stalls in the back are the best places I've found yet in TJ for counting up my remaining cash and redistributing it into different pockets.

Downstairs, on my way out of the terminal, I encountered something I hadn't seen yet on this visit… rain. Lots of it. It was coming down in buckets. It was 7:45 and the festivities at Las Pulgas were to commence at 8:30, so I opted to stand near the exit, watch the rain fall, and contemplate the rest of the evening. I realized I was cutting it close, time-wise.

I concluded that I needed to cross back over the border by 1:00am… 2:00 at the latest. My flight would be leaving LAX at noon the next day. I hadn't even started packing yet, and I didn't want to be making that two-and-a-half-hour drive after a sleepless night.

I wanted to allow at least two hours at Adelitas to spend with Elisa. So, I figured I would have to be back at AB by 10-10:30. Which didn't give me as much time as I would have liked at Las Pulgas.

I looked up and down Revo; the rain was letting up, but just a little. Raining or not, this was Saturday evening and the city had lost none of its festive mood. Music was blaring from the dance club across the street. Young party-goers were braving the weather and walking up and down the street, some with umbrellas, some not. A few had gotten an early start to their partying, and didn't care if they got wet at all.

Eventually, the rain came to a halt. It was almost 8:30, and I started to head down to Las Pulgas. I had already experienced meeting with a few East Coast board members on our home turf, but this would be the first time I met up with guys from the board in TJ.

I arrived in front of Las Pulgas just as they were closing down the open-air exposure in the front. I took a peek inside, and already, I could see it was nothing like the other nighttime establishments I had frequented in TJ.

The security check upon entering was interesting. I felt like I was in an airport as I got frisked with a hand-held metal detector. I headed out into the main area, looking for a table full of gringos. What a place! Loud, festive, and the eye candy was unbelievable.

It didn't take me long to find the right table. Several guys were already there. A motley crew, indeed. Milkman immediately identified me as a wandering Hombre and came over and introduced himself. I must say that Milky is exactly as I had pictured him.

I sat down and spent the next hour or so shooting the breeze. I didn't get a chance to speak with all who attended, but those I did talk with included The Senator, HeadinSouth, Bosco, Sampson (and his cabbie), Byron, Jocannon, and a few others whose handles I can't recall. I had a great time discussing the legendary "Don't get busted" thread with its originator, The Senator. I still think that thread contains some of the funniest material that's ever been posted on the board.

I hung around just long enough to witness the chica raffle. Out of nowhere, Milkman showed up with a young hottie in tow, and had her draw the winning ticket. No question about it, this guy's got game. I later heard stories regarding this particular chica and her sister. Which one of you was it who went after the sister?

Jocannon was declared the winner of the raffle, after some confusion that brought to mind partially-punched ballots and misplaced chads in Florida.

At that point, I couldn't hang around any longer. I hope that after reading this report, you guys will understand why. It was a fun time, though, and I'm glad I dropped by.

The Senator also wanted to get back over to AB, so we shared a cab ride. Upon disembarking, he wanted to head over to his room at the Hotel Coahuila to get ready for meeting up with some young hottie. I split and headed for the entrance to the bar. I heard that later, when The Senator arrived back downstairs, his chica was standing right inside the curtains pining away for him!

I paused for a second before entering the bar. I knew what was in store for me on a Saturday evening at 10:30.

Once inside, I could barely breathe. Hordes of people blocked every walkway, making moving about an adventure. The heat was overwhelming, stifling, ungodly. I started to fight my way through the human logjam, in search of Elisa.

I made one circuit of the bar; no sign of her. I made one more trip around the perimeter, pushing and shoving my way through when necessary, checking every corner this time. I didn't see her anywhere.

I felt like I was in a steam bath; sweat was pouring off of me. Uncertainty began to creep into my mind.

One thing I've always liked about Elisa is her predictability. If she's supposed to be in the bar, she usually is. And more often than not, as I've documented here and in my previous reports, she finds me before I find her.

But this was different. It was a strange feeling, looking for her and not seeing her anywhere. I grew more and more uneasy.

As my mind began to work, I started to become frantic. She wouldn't stand me up on my last night in TJ... would she? Maybe she was upstairs. That I could live with; she'd no doubt be back down shortly. But suppose someone had spirited her away for the entire night?

I dismissed that possibility from my mind; no one does TLN's at Adelitas on a Saturday night. But then... where was she?

I remembered my first visit to the Zona, almost a year ago, and considered the parallels. Then, I had conducted a similar frenzied search for Elisa, attempting to prevent the whole trip from ending on a major down note. Now here I was doing the same thing, one more time.

Near the bar on the right, a couple of guys were pushing a hand cart with several large bags of ice on it. They practically ran over anyone who wouldn't move out of the way. I'm a mild-mannered guy, but I glared at them as they nearly knocked me over.

Still wondering if Elisa was a no-show, I struggled my way over to the upper bar. Evelyn was standing in her usual spot. Beautiful, sexy Evelyn, who has attracted my attention on many an occasion. But not now; my focus was elsewhere.

So it was back down to the lower bar. And there she was; Elisa was standing nearby, wearing a slinky green-and-black two-piece outfit. But the best part of her attire was the big I'm-happy-to-see-you smile. And in an instant, all was forgotten, and the sinking ship was righted.

That whole sequence seemed to take an hour, but probably lasted only ten or fifteen minutes.

As always, she had a place to sit down already in mind. She led me to the back, behind the rear dance floor. And wouldn't you know it, it was much cooler back there for some reason.

We shared a booth with a guy who was in a semi-conscious state of inebriation. He wasn't much company, which was fine with me.

I got the impression that Elisa was very slightly tipsy. She was even more chatty than usual. A few drinks turn her into a life-of-the-party type. She was talking up a storm, and soon had me in stitches.

But what happened next made my jaw hit the floor.

Two giggling chicas suddenly appeared in front of us, obviously friends of Elisa's. She greeted them, then in a matter-of-fact way, pointed at me and said, "Novio." I'd heard that word for the second time in two days. And this time, I was sure I'd heard it right.

In retrospect, I should have commented on it immediately, but I guess I was just too stunned. Perhaps "alarmed" is a better word. She was introducing me to her friends as her "novio"? But, I have to admit, there was a part of me that was very, very touched.

Or was she messing with me again? I don't know.

Her friends soon moved on, still giggling. Elisa took my hand and began cracking the knuckles, one by one. She was halfway through her second drink when she pointed at the glass, and then at her head, and said "No mas." I had an almost-full glass of Coca-Cola in front of me, and she took it away and began to nurse that instead. I just smiled.

But I knew time was passing, and I didn't have all that much of it left. I decided then and there that unlike the two previous visits, I wanted to say goodbye to her up in the room, not in the bar.

We made our way toward the curtains. On the way out, I saw several of the guys I had seen earlier at Las Pulgas. Obviously, for some of you, the party had moved over to AB. Elisa and I walked right past you guys; maybe you saw us.

I had an hour left. Perhaps. It was Saturday night, and the knocks come quicker on Saturday.

She lay back on the bed, and I went down on her. I focused all my energy on her pleasure. I guess I felt that the more I pleasured her, the less likely it would be that she'd forget me.

After a couple of vocal and intense orgasms on her part, I rolled over and let her work on me. I wanted to hold out as long as possible, but Elisa's oral talents made it darn near impossible. I managed somehow, and she eventually got on top of me and rode me cowgirl-style.

And then... we heard a knock. Had it been an hour already?

I wanted another half hour, but as usual, Elisa was one step ahead of me. "More time?" she asked.

"More time," I croaked. "I want more time." And thus commenced a scene that resembled something from a Benny Hill episode.

I raced across the room and grabbed $11 from my pants pocket. I glanced at my watch; we had, indeed, been going at it for almost an hour. I handed the money to Elisa; she wrapped a towel around herself, opened the door and called for the room attendant.

I was standing near the bathroom, obviously in my birthday suit. With the door open, I was in full view of anyone who might have been in the hall. Now, I realize that modesty standards in this particular venue are not the same as they are elsewhere. But subjecting anyone to the horror of unexpectedly viewing my naked form might be considered by many to be cruel and unusual punishment.

I was in no man's land; I heard the attendant's footsteps approaching, and made a move for the bathroom. Luckily, Elisa realized my plight and shut the door momentarily. She giggled and motioned me over to the bed, where I'd be out of sight. I tore across the room and belly-flopped onto the bed. After Elisa paid the attendant, we both collapsed on the bed in laughter.

Despite that rude interruption, we quickly picked up where we left off without losing much momentum. She resumed the cowgirl position, and what ensued can only be described as perfect sex. The fit was perfect, the rhythm was exquisite. I finally let loose in what was one of the most intense and bittersweet orgasms of my life.

As we were catching our breath and winding down, the knock came. The alarm clock of reality at the Hotel Coahuila. I couldn't put it off any longer. Time was up.

I rolled over on top of her and gazed down at her face. This was the vision of Elisa that I wanted to burn into my mind, to carry with me during what I knew would be another long interval between visits. She smiled back at me. Did I see her lower lip tremble just a bit? Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, but in any case, leave me with my illusions.

When I said goodbye to Elisa for the first time, a year ago, I thought I'd never see her again. That wasn't the case the second time around. Nor was it this, the third time. But even so, the third goodbye would prove to be the most difficult yet.

"Thank you... for everything." I told her. She responded with about ten rapid-fire facial and lip kisses.

We got untangled, stood up, washed and began to get dressed. I decided that I would walk her downstairs to the curtains, but refrain from going back in to AB. There was nothing productive to be gained from doing so. I would then head for the cabs in front of CC, and make a beeline for the border. I didn't want to prolong things; I felt a need to cut and cut cleanly, then start to think about next time.

We exchanged one more deep, long kiss in front of the door. "Fly safe," she told me in her endearingly imperfect yet crystal-clear English.

Elisa stopped at the check-in desk to retrieve her purse. We walked slowly down the stairs, and before I knew it, we were in front of the curtains. She looked at me; we squeezed hands. "Until next time," she said softly. I let go of her hand, then stepped back and repeated a ritual I've performed on all three visits. I watched her disappear through the curtains, re-entering her world. It's a world that is foreign to me, yet one I can't seem to get enough of.

I started to walk toward CC and the cabs. By the time I reached the first taco stand, it hit me... another visit had come to an end. And I realized that once again, Elisa had gotten to me. She has a way of doing that, and it had snuck up on me.

I was in a crestfallen daze as I entered the cab. If the driver noticed, he never let on. It's fortunate that he was the quiet type; there is no way I could have managed any kind of conversation. He dropped me off at the border cab stand; I handed him the five bucks and trudged off toward the overpass.

I walked right past the women and children asking for money on the pedestrian bridge; generosity was not on my mind, for I could focus only on my own selfish issues.

I don't know how long I waited at the customs office that night; it's a blur to me. It couldn't have been more than five minutes. Behind me, several drunken partiers were making a scene.

More revelers whooped it up as I began the trek across the pedestrian bridge. I reflected on the irony of it all. These people, indulging in the delusions of intoxication, were feeling no pain. Yet here I was, an avowed non-drinker who was more in need of strong libations than any of them.

As I passed through the gates into the parking lot, a light mist began to fall. By the time I crossed from one end of the lot to the other, the mist had become a driving rain. I slumped into my car, soaking wet. There, in the privacy of my car, and under the cover of inclement weather, I sat motionless for a few minutes, alone.

A short while later, I pulled into the parking lot at the Motel 6. My room was around back, on the first floor. I locked the car door, then instead of entering my room, I walked up the stairs to the second floor, and looked out from the corner of the walkway that snaked its way around the exterior of the hotel.

The rain had stopped and the clouds were beginning to part. A bright, waxing gibbous moon had become visible. And there, almost close enough to touch, were the lights of TJ. Almost close enough to touch... but the separation transcended any physical distance. It involved culture, politics, international borders, and matters of the heart.

I took in the scene for a little bit, reminiscing and contemplating memories still to be created. I blew a kiss toward those glimmering lights, then turned around and headed down the stairs toward my room, to pack for the long trip home.

Hasta la proxima mi amor.

Farsider,

Great report. A thinking man takes an emotional vacation - nice stretch.

Regards,
RickFeliz

Next time ask for the Sentri line. Same price for me anyway. Saves that walk over the bridge and crossing through the traffic. Good reports!!

Ahhh, Farsider. Another romantic in our midst. Where is the "dark side" in all this?

"The walk in was ridiculously easy. I was actually a little disappointed; I thought I would be undertaking something brave and adventuresome. True, you always need to keep your guard up in TJ. But I won't even think twice about doing it again, at least in the daytime. After dark, of course, is a different story."

You are at risk night or day, people or no people around. I found out the hard way a year ago, in broad daylight, with plenty of others around... This after years of walking around without incident.

RF and 694me... thanks!

Dogster... where in TJ did you get mugged in broad daylight?

Walking from the Zona the area that now has that giant arch. 1/2 block from Revo. Choked into unconsciousness by dudes who snuck up behind me, and robbed. Broad daylight, tons of people around. People selling newspapers, cooking tacos, playing music, chatting by their taxis, street girls, mothers and daughters, etc. A typical daylight scene in TJ. None helped. When I came to, people basically ignored me. Some thought it was funny. Some heaved insults when I asked for help. Some just wanted money, which I no longer had on my person. All acted like it was business as usual.

And it is.

I'm not the first or last to report something like this. Plenty of reports on this board about these things. As I read your report, I worried about you getting zapped, too.

I was naive, but it was also a lapse of judgement. Had I seen this coming, I could've easily defended myself against these dudes. I had walked that route many times without incident, and had become a too smug.

But I learned something ugly, dark and true about most people in the Zona Norte. A good lesson.

...."But I learned something ugly, dark and true about most people in the Zona Norte. A good lesson.".....

Hey Dogster,

Maybe the lesson is that they just don't like you very much. LOL

I, on the other hand, they love. And I'm sure they, as if of one mind, would jump to my defense.

Not they the rateros would ever give me a problem, I'm convinced they love me too.

This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.