eastside wrote a blog today about going to jail in mexico and i felt inspired to tell the tale of my arrest for male prostitution and my subsequent time in a tijuana jail. many years ago i was working in san diego, after work one day some friends and i decided to head down across the border into tj for the night.
it started off well as we reached the border and took a cab onto revolution blvd (never take your car into tj if you wanna keep it). now tijuana is a border town that thrives on tourism, horny americans, and drug trafficking. ever heard of the donkey show? yeah, tijuanas the place to find it. its the kind of place you need to be careful because despite the supposed language barrier, they all speak english and you will get screwed in any deal you make with any mexican over the age of four. quite a quant place all in all.
the entire city is centered around one main strip called revolution blvd, not unlike the vegas strip here in america. the only difference being the streets are lined with shops selling brass knuckles and knock off handbags and every other building is a stripclub/ brothel. but what the hell... the beer is cheap, the women are hot, and for the right price you can do things that would carry a mandatory jail sentence and a reserved spot on the megans law website.
so there we go wandering from one fine establishment to another when we see a sign written in glitzy neon advertising a titty bar called peanuts and beer down a dark alley. seems an odd name for such an obviously classy place but we figure with the advertised drink specials, what the hell... so in we go into peanuts and beer and let me tell you, this place was a dive. from the warmed over piss beer to the middle aged flabby strippers wearing what appeared to be clown makeup, i was ready to go. but my friends had already ordered drinks so i figured "fuckit, one drink wont kill me".
now in this titty bar (i use the term loosely) all the tables were pushed up directly against the tip rail. so we take a seat just as the lights dim and the beastiest naked woman i have ever seen comes onstage just as the music cues. she continues her stage dance as i kept my gaze toward the floor in the hopes that shed stay on her side of the stage as opposed to trying to rub those southward facing jubblies in my face in the hopes for a tip.... it didnt work.
you see i happened to be wearing a hat that day. as she walked by she reached down and took the hat off my head planting it securely on that bleached jew fro of a mop she called her hair. i stood up for fear of losing my favorite hat and asked her for it back. in broken english she refused and demanded a dollar. i was not about to stand idly by as the roseanne barr of mexican strippers was about to take my favorite hat so i climbed up on stage to get my hat back.
unfortunately unbeknownst to me, the stage was wet and as i stood up, i slipped and began to fall backwards off the stage. with lightning quick reflexes the stripper reached out and caught me with one hand cupping my shoulder and the other firmly clenched around my goody bag. she was massaging my nuts and angling again for the dollar bill. normally, the courtesy handy might have felt good except for 2 problems. 1) she was butt ass ugly. remember the character hatchet face from the movie Cry Baby? yeah, that ugly. 2) i had fallen backward and now my entire body weight was precariously held up by hatchet faces death grip on my bean bag. so rather than a feeling of coital bliss it felt like my balls were on fire!
as she pulled me up all the while furiously trying to get her hands in my pants my body went into fight or flight mode and i sprang into action! i grabbed my hat off her head and in one deft move, turned and started running down the stage making a beeline for the door... big mistake... i hadnt made it ten feet before hatchet face had clipped my legs out from under me performing a slide tackle that would make david beckham cringe. before my body had a chance to hit the floor, she had me in a scissor lock with my head stuck between her fishy thighs and was demanding a dollar all the more fervently.
i looked around the room in a panic hoping to find assistance from my 2 friends and what do i see? them in a corner booth, one getting blown from a stripper about the size of the midget from fantasy island with similar facial hair, and the other desperately suckling on another strippers tit like he was drowning and her nipples were full of air. so obviously they had prior engagements so i got no assistance there. the only thing that allowed my harry houdini like escape was the fact that hatchet faces thighs were caked in lotion like a greasy piece of chicken at kfc. i popped my head out from her thighs, took one last swig of my beer and did the running man toward the front door.
my friends finally figured out that our titty bar trip had gone horribly wrong scampered after me so we could make it to the border. (side note:any time you do anything remotely stupid in mexico, leave immediately.) as we exited the fine establishment of peanuts and beer, my friends were laughing hysterically at my titty bar shenanigans when we were cornered by the federales. our troubles had just begun, but thats a story for another blog