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PutaTester

West Coast. He who dies with the most memories wins.

I happen to be in El Paso and able to visit Ciudad Juarez for a few hours (October 2019). Actually, I planned it that way, since I have enjoyed Tijuana so much, I thought I would see what CJ had to offer. Lots of remarks about how dangerous the city is. However, I figured that I am getting old enough that it doesn’t matter as much. Overall, the trip might be considered a waste of time and money. Indeed, you can declare that you won’t ever bother and stop reading now if you want and you will not miss that much. OTOH, it was an interesting experience to do once. YMMV

I called Uber from the hotel and it was about $15 to a border crossing. There are several. In this case, the Uber driver claimed to have crossed the border himself several times, but was not sure exactly where it was best to drop off a pedestrian. I am guessing that we were near Chihuahuita, as there many shops on either side of that crossing. Due to the one-way street design, I thought I spotted the entry and the Uber driver dropped me about three blocks away. Wasn’t concerned, as the area looked to be clean and safe. I crossed the border on a Saturday night at dusk.

I found my way to the entry, which was at the base of a bridge. Following the crowd, there was a window to the right that asked a 50-cent toll to walk across the bridge. I almost missed it, but saw several people veer to it and drop a few coins in the tray. I followed suit. There wasn’t much of a restriction, such as a gate or security. Just some girl behind the window collecting tolls.

Walked across the bridge unchallenged in any way. No one from the Mexican Border service to question me or ask for a visa. I stepped away from the bridge onto a large, well-lit street full of pharmacies, liquor stores, and bars. I bought a bottle of water and walked up the street for about eight blocks where the businesses seemed to thin out. I had been driving for three days from the SF Bay Area (including an overnight in Tijuana with a CF), so I thought I had best get on with the original mission, to check out the clubs. There was almost no information online, with the exception of Amadeus, so that was my goal.

Two blocks past the bridge there was a taxi loitering and asked if I wanted a ride. I wanted to see more of the street so I passed on the first offer, figuring there would be others. However, the main street was jammed with traffic barely moving. The taxi was positioned to escape to a side street. Not finding any others, I turned around and walked back to the stand.

The original offer for a taxi was made by an older man that had a clean appearance and kindly look. He was gone. The only cab in the area was manned by a scruffy driver with a bit of an attitude. I had consider passing, but it seemed to be the only game. I asked how much to Amadeus and was told $20…I think. The driver spoke very fast and made little effort to help me to understand what he was saying. I know some Spanish, but like many, I must translate everything to English in my head. Now I wish I had walked away, but I was on a mission and accepted the ride. Google Maps showed it to be an hour walk. It was dark and I didn’t consider walking to be a safe method of transport away from this main street.

In the cab, the driver, George, asked if I wanted to go someplace where the girls are hot and only wanted $100/hr for sex. I said that was what I was looking for. We drove through some areas I would never be caught on foot for maybe 12 blocks. We passed a bar I think was called Sin Sin that had flashing lights, advertised girls, and a very attractive girl standing outside in puta attire chatting with some hombre. It actually looked pretty good to me, but I had seen nothing about the club on the internet, despite googling many topics attempting to glean information, so I let the cab go on.
We arrived at the Pink Ladies. Another monger’s account said that he had asked to go to Amadeus and his driver took him to the Pink Ladies. His account indicated that he checked it out briefly, went to Amadeus, was disappointed, went back to the Pink Ladies, and had a great time, so I thought it was worth checking out, despite the driver taking me to what I considered the wrong club.

We walk to the door where I was met by a man and the taxi driver sorta disappeared. I assumed it was to collect a fee for bringing a customer to the bar. However, I had not paid him for the ride. I was seated at a pub table next to a tiny stage with a pole on it. Nobody was dancing on the stage and nobody did while I was there. Inside were four girls on the floor and two guys that appeared to be local mongers. None of the girls looked particularly attractive. They were dressed in something similar to street attire. I did order a soda pop, which was about $3. One of the girls approached, but she seemed to be tired and didn’t carry herself well. She was maybe a 4, dressed in a short, pink skirt, and flat chested. I sent her away.

Shortly thereafter, I was approached by another girl who was pretty, with blond highlights, an hourglass figure, and huge ass. She had a big smile and looked like she might be fun, so I bought her a drink for $4. The bar accepts dollars, but I was often given a price in pesos. Since I had a lot of pesos from my TJ visit, I paid some things in pesos. One interesting observation was that when the mesero delivered the drink, he passed the girl money in such a way as to avoid my notice. I noticed. It was clutched tightly, but I could see that it was probably one dollar US; I doubt it was two, but she clutched it so tightly I couldn’t see clearly.

I chatted with the girl for about 20 minutes. She was dressed in a lacy, red bra and blue jeans. I guess that was her way of putting out half an effort, which was more than most. Her English skills were near zero, but I managed to have a basic conversation in Spanish (as my skills are very poor). What sold me was that she had a great laugh and seemed genuinely interested in having fun with me. I told her that I liked her ass. I didn’t say it, but I was wondering if it was fake. She replied that she got the big ass by having three kids solving that mystery.
After a second drink, I asked her for sex. She said it was $100 for one hour for everything. I agreed. She stayed in the bar and said she would join me in the room in a few minutes, which I thought was a bit odd. I figured what is the worst that could happen? I could be dragged away and robbed of everything in my pockets, and maybe murdered, but I had to know. The mesero led me out the front of the bar to an adjacent door with heavy bars. Similar to TJ, theoretically, there is no sex in the bar.

The mesero asked if I wanted a small room or a large room. I opted for the large room and he seemed a bit surprised. Later I saw a sign that said the small room was 100 pesos. He asked 200 pesos for the large room. It was a simple room. Two nightstands, a desk, a lamp, and a king size bed. The girl came in and asked if I would buy her another drink. I agreed. The mesero brought her the drink and again appeared to pass her a bill. The mesero closed the door and she locked it. She asked for the $100 payment. I didn’t protest, as my mission was to have a learning experience whether it be a success or failure.

She stripped down and told me to do the same. Her boobs were B-cups and seemed small in proportion to her ass and the rest of her frame. I sat on the end of the bed, figuring I would do a little exploration before getting to the main event. She started to hump my leg while I sucked on her boobs. She was clearly enjoying it, as when she paused a check of her moisture meat-er indicated high output.

This went on for about 15 minutes while I explored her girl parts, but I was getting a little bored. We got on the bed and started kissing a little bit while she worked mini me with her hand. She seemed to be waiting for her next command, so I indicated that I was ready for a BJ. She asked for extra money and I said the $100 was for everything. She accepted with little protest and started a CBJ. Looking back, she might have been offering a BBBJ for extra money, but she didn’t make it clear. Her skills were actually fairly good, but she seemed to be losing her interest and enthusiasm. After another 15 minutes, she checked her phone and said there was not much time left.

We went missionary and doggie, where I enjoyed the real estate of her huge ass. She went back to a CBJ when I popped. I could feel that she was losing interest, which was kind of a buzz kill. She dressed and left. I checked my phone and saw that I still have 15 minutes left in the hour. I wasn’t concerned as I didn’t want to stay there any longer with a woman who was bored with my company. I dressed and walked outside, and there was George waiting for me. He greeted me with a big grin and all the macho locker room humping gestures that I suppose were intended to flatter me. I actually didn’t appreciate it and saw it as being sleazy, and not my style. I told him that I still wanted to go to Amadeus.

We drove through the city streets, including some areas where I would not have gotten out of the cab in daylight, much less in the dark. His speedometer read 40 mph on average, but the way he was weaving in-and-out of traffic made it seem much faster. The GPS on my phone had indicated that it was only an hour walk to Amadeus, but it seemed like we drove for over 15 minutes. At George’s break-neck style driving style, I would guess that we covered over five miles.

George said he would meet me inside. I was patted down and wanded. No cover charge. Likely George was getting a kick-back for bringing me. I didn’t care and offered to buy him a drink. I had asked for mineral water in a bottle, but they brought me some pink thing in a glass, the same as what George was having. I think it was low risk, but in the interest of risk reduction, I sent it back and said I wanted the water.

The mesero still wanted to charge me for the drink and had a little discussion with George. They were speaking rapid fire. Again, no effort to communicate with the Gringo with the slow Spanish skills. I did get my mineral water.
There were about five mongers sitting around the stage and maybe ten in the chairs around the bar. Some of them had girls in their laps. Two of the mongers appeared to be White. They could have been Gringos or Ex Pats. I would have liked to have talked to them and find out, but when I got near, they gave me an angry look, so I kept walking.

It was a decently clean club. We watched four girls perform on the stage. Of the five girls I could see on the floor, most were in the 6-7 range. The girls I saw on stage were at similar attraction levels. The girl I picked at the Pink Ladies was the hottest in the room, but if we were in TJ, she would barely qualify as a 5…in Gold Palace. I doubt she would make a dime in any of the bigger clubs. I am now disappointed that I didn’t start at Amadeus, but it was an exploratory mission. One upside was that the meseros were not aggressive. They huddled around in front of the bar and waited for patrons to alert them.

After watching the stage performances and since I had recently popped and wasn’t strongly interested in anyone, I told George I was ready to go. We got in the cab and he asked where I wanted to go. I said back to where he picked me up, but for some reason he didn’t want to do that and kept asking what I meant, again speaking staccato Spanish. We went round-and-round a bit. I remember reading that Bridge of the Americas was a border crossing. I thought it might have been where I had crossed originally, as that is where I told the Uber driver that I wanted to go, trying not to sound like it was my first time.

We drove to what looked like a bridge crossing. George said I owed him 2000 pesos. We argued. He said he spent a lot of time with me, which justified his price. My thought was that he did so by choice and did not consult me. Indeed, he was making himself scarce in the club and had not asked if I wanted him to wait, so he was scamming me a bit. Things got a little heated and he finally accepted 1200 pesos. I was anxious to get out of the cab and the area looked OK.

I walked over the bridge. Less than halfway across there were four young USA Border agents in dark blue uniforms playing grab ass. They asked to see my passport. I barely got my regular passport out of my pocket and they said OK I can continue. None of them looked to be over 21.

I thought that might be the only check, but at the end of the bridge was a room with another check station. Actually, there was a Ready line and an All Travelers line. Only one All Travelers line was open. There were about 10 people ahead of me, including several families. No Sentri line identified. The border guard was quizzing people. One young family had him questioning if the kids were really theirs. They had a fist full of paperwork, but he had to give them some grief. He was an old guy and probably liked his job more than he should. I also noticed that he was in a tan uniform. I had to guess that my previous encounter was with some kind of cadets.

I thought that the passport card was only good for Baja California crossings, but there was a sign encouraging people to apply for a passport card and that possession of one would speed the crossing, so that was erroneous information. A few of the people in front of me put their standard passports in the reader and there was a delay, as they were directed to wait to be called up to the agent.

I was about 20 minutes in line, placed my passport card in the reader and it immediately said to go to the agent. He was a little surly. Asked me some questions, including why I was in Ciudad Juarez. I told him that I had never been here before and took a look around. That did not satisfy him. What did I see? Where did I go? Who did I talk to?

I didn’t want to tell him that I had been to the local whore houses, so I just gave him vague answers about going to bars and walking the street. He finally let me pass. I didn’t see any kind of X-ray belt similar to what is at the TJ crossings.
Coming out of the border station I was in an industrial area. I probably should have called the Uber from there, but I didn’t feel comfortable standing around. Before crossing into Mexico I marked my location on my phone. Google Maps said I was 2.4 miles west from where I was and that my hotel was 3.2 miles north. I could see some lights and traffic about ¾ miles up the road, so I started walking.

Might not have been the smartest thing, but there was nobody around and I kept my head on a swivel. As I walked toward the lights, an older guy walked behind me for a few blocks. Kept the eyes in the back of my head on him, listening to his footsteps in case they got closer or quickened. He turned down another street. Otherwise, a few cars went by and nobody else was around on foot. There were some streetlights, but no residences.

I walked to a KFC. I considered getting a snack, but then the lights went out and the worker exited. It was about 10:00. I called the Uber and the driver was there in about 10 minutes. Back to the hotel and done for the night.

In the morning I was loading the truck when a man approached and started a conversation. He said he was $22 short of getting an airplane ticket home to San Diego and he was a veteran on his way to the Veterans Administration to see if they would help him to get home. He said one of his frustrations was that most people in El Paso don’t speak English. He provided a few examples, such as asking someone how long they had been in the USA. Twelve years, and they never learned any English. Maybe they just didn’t want to talk to him. He asked if maybe he could get a ride west with me, but I said I was going east (which was true). We had a nice chat about traveling around the country. I kept waiting for him to ask me for the $22, but he never did; we just chatted. He said he was going to continue on to the VA and left. I actually enjoyed chatting with him and getting a little insight on El Paso, especially since he didn’t seem to want anything from me other than some friendly conversation.

With that, I left El Paso on my journey east to Houston with no personal reason to return. If work takes me there again, likely I will rely on the local USA clubs to get my Ya Yas out. (On another trip, I had been to the Red Parrot and enjoyed that visit.)

A few weeks later I had lunch with a friend who had been living in Mexico, around Mazatlán for the past six months. He was aghast that I had been to CJ, saying that it was the most dangerous city in Mexico for Gringos.

I wouldn’t mind doing some exploring around Ciudad Juarez (as I do have a high risk idiot streak down my back). That bar, Sin Sin, looked interesting. But the only way I would do so is if I could first explore during the day, so I could get a better sense of landmarks and orientation. Maybe I would try a massage parlor, as the bars don’t open until 6:00. Or go in the summer when the days are longer. Glad I went once, but I cannot recommend it to anyone, especially going alone.

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