[ by Voltron ]
There was this one time when I was in Mexico with some friends (who will remain nameless), getting completely shit-faced in this strip club. At some point of the night we decided it would be great to walk back to the hotel instead of taking a cab. You know, do some exploring at three in morning, in Mexico, really drunk. What could go wrong? Somehow we got turned around and ended up on a very seedy street where the only thing open was this bar called Toro Bravo! "Fuck it," we thought in our drunken haze and headed inside to find a scene I couldn't make up if I tried. There were only about eight people in this spot: the bartender, who had an eye patch, some dude passed out face down on a table, two Mexican prostitutes and four guys in a band covering Black Sabbath. I stumbled to the bar to order while my friends sat at the table nearest to the hoes. By the time I returned, our trio had become a quintet and I found myself with a decent-looking Mexican lady (remember I was drunk so my definition of decent has been altered to fit the situation) on my lap who probably had a very happy childhood but at some point in her life she made a left instead of a right and ended up selling ass at Toro Bravo! You know that saying "When in Rome?" well, the next thing I know I was led to a back room with one bed, a dresser, a little fan in the corner and a nightstand with a bowl of condoms sitting on top of it. The rest of the night is somewhat of a blur but what I can recollect was that I owed somebody $60, some street kids stuck us up for 40 pesos and I had a number in my pocket with the name Lupe on it.
This book would've been perfect to read on the plane back from Mexico.
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