Note: This is the second coming of this article. It was rejected the first time for reasons outlined in a discussion posting. I have rewritten it and included some comments for those obtuse critics that need the joke explained. YMMV.
It began on a Tuesday morning.
I had spent the night with one of my favorite putas, identified here as Ester. The original mission: Go from Mexicali to San Felipe to enjoy the beach. “Bring shorts and sun screen,” said my Category 8 puta. We planned to leave about 10:00 am by Uber or DiDi. Ester notifies Fantasia about our plan as Ester told me that it was possible that we could connect with Fantasia upon our return to Mexicali. Fantasia replies that she would like to see me again and that she and her friend are also going to San Felipe and they would take us with them. Uber indicated that it was $100 one way, so I was pleased with the savings.
Players:
Fantasia: A good friend of Ester and Uki. Mid 20s. Very pretty but could stand to log some time in a gym. (Hence the Category 7 designation.) I met her about two years ago. Originally, I was introduced to Fantasia by Ester when Fantasia was working in La Gloria. We had some drinks and the three of us spent about three hours together in the club. After that initial meeting, Fantasia told Ester that she wanted to have a threesome that included Ester and I, but it never happened. I never had a session with Fantasia. I am guessing that it would have been a great session, in part because Fantasia had no issues with my hands roaming in the club.
Ester: A good friend of Fantasia but Ester had never met Uki before now. Ester is a shorty that is all tits and ass. I have known her for over nine years and spent a lot of time OTC with her. Great fun in and out of la cama. At the ten-year mark we are either legally married by Mexican common law or I get a set of steak knives. She has occasionally introduced me as her husband. I could do worse. The first time I met Ester was when she was working in Hong Kong. She was my first puta session, and I have been seeing her ever since. I made most of my puta testing mistakes with her and she has been very forgiving. (Of course, having been well coached, I branched out, exploring new experiences with other putas.)
Uki: A good friend of Fantasia. About 23 years old. VERRY pretty and very put together. Nice body that showed well in her black pantsuit. The nipples of her small C-cups led the way through her thin blouse. A stunning, lean woman that would be Category 9 in any club.
2:00 pm Ester and I are starting to get concerned about the time. Ester contacts Fantasia to find out when we are leaving. Fantasia replies, “very soon,” which in puta time means little. Ester and I enjoy the privacy of the hotel room for a while longer. 3:30 pm Fantasia messages that they are on the way. 3:50 pm, The girls show up at a bank branch where I was trying to withdraw some pesos for the trip. I lose my ATM card, eaten by the Mexican ATM. It said that I had put in an incorrect PIN number and asked me to reenter the number. I reentered the number and the ATM sucked away my ATM card. (When I requested a new ATM card, my bank actually had a category, “Retained by an ATM”). The girls ask the associated bank branch for help as it is locking its doors. Denied. Some ATM customers try to help, but no joy. 4:00 pm Multiple bystanders suggest that we ask the bank branch for help. We avoid laughter. Uki decides to call the number on the ATM machine. Multiple menu selections later…a dead end. 4:30 pm I lock the card through my bank’s web site. Fantasia, Ester, and Uki are still trying to find a way to retrieve the ATM card. They encourage other ATM users to use the same machine in the hope that it will kick out my card. Their transactions go flawlessly, but no joy for us. 4:45 pm I finally convince the girls that the effort is futile, and we should abandon all hope. 4:50 pm we mount the vehicle and depart for San Felipe, about two hours away. (Aside: In case you missed it, the point of this material is that your ATM card can be retained by the machine. If you have ever been without an ATM card, you know what I am referring to. If you have not, this is your warning.)
Our Transportation: An orange Toyota Corolla of unknown year and in disrepair.
Inventory:
• One operational headlight. • Working AC, but the sun roof was open, so Fantasia and Uki got the benefit. Ester and I did. Did not even know the AC was working until the return trip. • Windows in the back did not roll down. • Tires had tread. (I checked.) • One bottle of Johnny Walker Red in the back seat (which made me nervous, especially since I know nothing of the liquor laws in Mexico, except that the drinking age is 18+). • It had shocks of limited operational value. • Two functioning seatbelts, one for the driver and one for the front passenger. No safety belts for Ester and I. I tried to determine if we were in an accident, would Ester and I be ejected from the sun roof or forced through one of the closed windows. A mystery that I hoped would never be solved. • California plates, which would become important to the story in a little while. (And for anyone who missed this point, it was to indicate how the vehicle condition put us at risk.)
History of the Auto: The car was given to Uki by a “boyfriend,” who “does not have a driving license any more.” Likely, the owner had a choice to give the car to a Category 9 puta or donate it to Kars4Kids. I would have made the same choice that he did, if she had shown her gratitude by providing puta benefits.
The Journey Begins
The New Mission: To go with Fantasia and Uki to San Felipe despite it being clear that we would not be enjoying the beach in daylight. (Three putas and a Gringo thinking with the little head of the adventure that awaits.) There are two bars in San Felipe that Fantasia and Uki are planning to work. As the story develops, we find out that Uki has a stalker. In addition, said stalker works in the government office that receives notifications made by the clubs of what girls are working there. (New news to me that there is such communication.)
In the past, when Uki registered to work in a club, her stalker showed up at the club and was not very pleasant. I don’t think there was any violence involved, just creep factor. Apparently, these target bars do not report the employment of the girls/putas to the government. I am guessing that the bars simply look the other way as long as the putas sell drinks for the bar. Ester says she and I can just hang out in the bars until closing (3:00 am) and ride back to Mexicali with Fantasia and Uki. Ester is used to being up until 3:00 am. I am not. I make a plan to take Uber back to Mexicali partly for that reason, but had not done any verification with Uber (another issue that will become important soon). The other reason includes the quality of life that I have enjoyed so far and the desire to continue on this planet by surviving Uki’s driving skills.
We depart after Fantasia and Uki prepare beverages for themselves in drinking cups that include a generous helping of Johnny Walker. Neither Ester nor I drink alcohol and declined when offered. Fantasia was very disappointed when informed that we are declining to drink and delivered a classic sales pitch. Privately Ester expressed to me her fear that Uki would drive drunk on the two-lane road to San Felipe. I expressed my fear that we might not survive the journey.
Uki dodges her way through Mexicali city traffic and managed to find the main road out of town with only two near misses. I managed to maintain bladder control as did Ester, but great force-of-will was required.
On the open road, Uki’s average speed (according to instruments of questionable integrity) is 140+ kmh (also known as approximately 90 mph). The driving technique for this particular Toyota requires occasionally yanking the wheel to avoid oncoming traffic as the Toyota has an affinity for the left lane when the driver’s attention is removed from the road.
Originally, I suspected that it was a suspension/alignment issue. However, later it was discovered that despite the generous tread, the right front tire loses air on a continuous basis, causing the vehicle to pull to the left with increasing frequency. Uki’s solution, stop occasionally to refresh the air in the tire.
I look across the dry landscape and wonder how long it will be before my body is discovered. There must be some scientific factor to determine how far off the road the vehicle will come to a rest after a head-on collision at 90 mph. As Gringo with three Mexican putas, none of them older than half my age, a wild card might be that once my pockets are emptied, how far will my body be dragged into the desert to avoid any Mexicans found to be associating with a Gringo. I am sure that when I was discovered by the authorities, the standard procedure is, “Just throw more dirt on the Gringo.”
With fear in her voice, Ester suddenly says, “Give me your money. All of your money. Right now! Cops! Give me your money! Tell the cops that you don’t have any money!” (Ester doesn’t speak much English, but clearly those phrases have been practiced.) I comply and Ester shoves all of my paper USA dollars down the front of her pants. I would like to say those dollars went where no dollars have gone before, but that would not be true; many dollars, mine and others, have found their way into those pants.
About seven burly (read “overweight”) and heavily armed officers in camouflage stop the car in a formal facility and direct us to an area for secondary inspection. Uki pulls into the designated area. As it turns out, Uki does not have any ownership papers for the car she is driving. In addition, Uki does not have a license to drive the car that she does not own nor does she have any evidence of having permission to drive the vehicle with out-of-country plates.
Crash in the desert or die in a Mexican jail awaiting trial on charges unknown. (May you live in interesting times.) Although, I have no control over the decision making, at least life again contains a bit of mystery (which I originally saw as adventure).
Uki gets out of the car with her own high beams on. The rest of us exit the car on the opposite side. The aura of her C-cups repels the cops back a bit. (This is a good time to remind you that there is a now half-consumed bottle of alcoholic beverage where I was sitting.) There is nothing around us and it is much too far to walk back to our Mexicali hotel or to San Filipe. Nothing around the check station; not a taxi or Uber in sight. A few cars with Mexican plates pass through the checkpoint without delay. Visions of sharing a jail cell with 14 eclectic Mexican individuals danced in my head. Trying to stay positive, I considered how much my Spanish skills might improve in a brief period of time. I had considered an immersive language course, but suspect that in this situation, my trainers may teach me more about Mexican culture than I want to know.
The cops took turns (and their time) questioning Uki. Fantasia, Ester, and I stood on the other side of the car trying to hold the contents of our bladders in check. None of us were sure what was going to happen next. At least Fantasia and Ester spoke the language and had some idea of what was going on. Nobody spoke my language or tried to inform me. I considered trying to use my cell phone to get a translation, but thought it was probably best not to move…even if I could reach it out of my pocket. The cops performed inspection theater.
Ester told me to get in the car. We all got in and were allowed to drive off. Ester gave me my money back. For the first time in my experience, pussy gave me money. “If they had known that you had money, they would have taken it all. But, they won’t check a girl there.” I reminded Ester of our fiasco at the ATM machine and that I had about $300 cash. I wonder if she counted it while it was in her pants; it was all returned.
We arrive in San Felipe about 8:00 pm. Fantasia and Uki had researched a couple of bars they thought to be promising. First one was closed. The second one was closed. (They keep Thursday through Sunday hours.) I had a sense of both relief and trepidation. Relief that it was now unlikely that we would be there until 3:00 am and trepidation that they would want to leave quickly and try their luck in Mexicali bars before they closed.
I researched Uber to find out how much it would cost to be driven to Mexicali. The reply was, “Uber does not yet provide services in this area.” My options are now limited.
The girls found a bar named “Rockadile.” We entered and made our way upstairs. I sat by the window facing the street hoping to catch a glimpse of a cab, bolstering my hope that I could formulate a Plan B back to Mexicali. Possibly more costly financially, but cheaper regarding a threat to my life and the life of Ester.
We ordered some bar snacks. Fantasia and Uki ordered alcoholic beverages, but didn’t drink much of them. Apparently, the drinks were not well made. This gave me hope that their young bodies would quickly process the alcohol currently in their systems.
Our waiter was a Black man with dreadlocks. He was from Los Angeles and wasn’t entirely clear why he was working in a Mexican bar, but he had a good sense of humor. I suspect that he was hanging around our table due to the presence of the girls.
Plotting Our Return
Through Ester (because they know I have a soft spot for Ester), Fantasia and Uki asked that if we returned to Mexicali in time, would I buy them drinks in a bar at puta rates. I agreed to buy a few, but reminded them that I don’t have a lot of cash with me in part due to the incident at the ATM. They said I could just charge it through my phone. And while that is likely true, I told them because I had been a victim of fraud in the past, I wasn’t set up that way.
There seems to be something in the overall puta mentality that when monies are charged to a card, those monies do not have to be repaid to the lender in some way. I convinced them that without a working ATM card, I couldn’t gain any funds on-the-fly. They expressed disappointment. I told them that I had enough cash that if they drove Ester and I back to the hotel in Mexicali, I would give them $50 each. They agreed. Later, because Ester was planning to spend the night with me for zero cost, privately I told Ester that I still had some cash at the hotel so we could get a meal upon our return, but I did not want that to be known to Fantasia and Uki.
Back on the road,
Uki aired up the offending right front tire and I bought some gas for the car. The single headlight did a fair job of lighting the road. Uki exercised a little more caution on the return trip, averaging 120 kph.
We made it as far as the police checkpoint. Again, we were ordered out of the car and again, Uki took the lead with her personal headlights set on high, hoping to again reduce the authorities desire to engage with us further. (This time Ester had not asked for my dollars, as I think she had fallen asleep until we were stopped.) The police were not so forgiving at this point for some reason.
Of note, there were two large signs in English explaining in great detail that we should not offer the police any bribes or other compensation. If such bribes were requested, how to report those requests. There were even QR codes that I assume connected one to the proper reporting agency. There were no other signs in a Spanish equivalent. I wanted to take pictures of the signs, but I did not want to attract undue attention.
The rest of the journey was somewhat uneventful, despite Uki’s driving skills failing to improve. Ester and I were left at the hotel. I gave Fantasia and Uki the promised $50 for allowing us to survive the return trip. Ester and I went to our room where I recovered some backup funds.
From there, we went to La Mosca III for a few drinks. Ester said she was tired (probably drained of adrenaline). We returned to the hotel for a great session, before passing out.
In the morning, Ester gave me another wonderful session. She then went to her apartment, and I went back to the USA. The standard line was about 30-40 minutes long. There is a Sentri path that is not easy to navigate, but a helpful local directed me to the correct line. I crossed into Calexico in about 15 minutes. Unlike crossing at San Ysidro, no documentation was required to enter Mexico.
I recovered my car from the AA Parking lot undamaged for $22 (three days and two nights) and left for Tijuana. The next day I was scheduled to meet a woman at the TJ airport that I first met in Tropical Bar a few years ago. We had traveled together before and she is a great person to travel with, and very sexy. I stayed in Cascadas because my VIP card provided a cheap room for the night and a 1:00 checkout time. At 3:00 I met her at the airport exactly as planned. From there we were off to the Rosarito Beach Hotel for a few days that were, fortunately, uneventful by comparison to my experiences in Mexicali.
