I’m in Miami B****! (part 2)

I’m in Miami B****! (part 1)

It didn’t take long before he realized he had been bamboozled. The club didn’t even exist. Although he was downtrodden, he wasn’t going to let this minor setback ruin his trip. He went to the front desk and asked the receptionist for a recommendation.

With a slip of paper in hand, he went to his room to pregame. He took out a bottle of vodka and a large can of Red Bull from his backpack. At that moment, he remembered the coke.

He figured he’d catch a buzz from the alcohol before his first ever foray into hard drugs. After three cups full of a barely consumable concoction, he felt he was ready. He laid out a line and said to himself, “Here goes!”

He awkwardly snorted the powder off of the bathroom counter top and sat down on the toilet. He felt no different. He tried another line, then another. Nothing. He came to terms that he must have been ripped off, yet again, by the cabby. “Damn that driver, if I ever get a hold of him…” he said to himself in the mirror knowing full well he’d cower from the confrontation.

About a half hour later his guts rumbled like the San Andreas Fault about to produce a 9.0 on the Richter scale. He ran to the bathroom and barely made it. He had never evacuated such an amount in his life. It went for hours. He suffered vicious cramping and the feeling of having to go could not be satiated no matter how much came out of his derrière. Due to the Red Bull, he couldn’t sleep, when his innards had finally calmed down. His night was ruined.

With the sun starting to peek in from behind the drawn shades, he was finally able to drift off to sleep. When he woke, it was dark again. “Damn, missed a whole day”

To get ready for his big Saturday night in Miami, he decided to forgo the Red Bull and drink the vodka straight. When he was sufficiently giddy, he decided to go out. “Here goes” he once again said to himself in the mirror.

He arrived at the club the receptionist had recommended. It was shabby. The patrons didn’t look like they were having a good time in the least. They looked like a rag tag of lost souls trying to forget something or be forgotten.

An older gentleman called him over.  Out of sheer discomfort and the respite from it the man currently offered, Alonzo went.

As soon as he arrived the old man bluntly asked, “You wanna fuck?”

Shocked Alonzo stammered, “Oh, I’m not like that”

“No, you rube” the man laughed. “I got some “Good night Cinderella” with me. You put it in a bitch’s drink. They can’t help but say “yes”; well…” he pondered, “at least they can’t say “no”” the scumbag said. He was already gross in the eyes of Alonzo, but after this exchange he was upgraded to absolutely disgusting. “Come on, I need a youngin’ like you to get them interested, they ain’t gonna mess with an old fart like me out of the blue”

“I’ll pass” Alonzo said.

“Suit yourself” the old man answered, rolling his eyes.

Miraculously, some girls came up to talk to the odd duo. The old man gave Alonzo a wink. He ordered a round of drinks.

“These are on me, ladies” the creep cheered upon arrival of the cocktails.

When the tray was set down, the old man diverted the group’s attention. After some time passed, Alonzo saw him stealthfully spike a drink. Alonzo was actually having a good time for the first time on what has been a disaster of a trip. He didn’t want to spoil it so he let it go.

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I´m in Miami B**** (part 3) FINAL

 

I’m in Miami B****! (part 1)

Alonzo saved money for two years to have a blowout vacation in Miami. He, being from Wisconsin, held ideas about Miami that were quite romanticized to say the least. Miami represented a fantasy of tropical paradise and non-stop partying.

Besides the financial burden, he also prepared for the trip in other ways. For starters, he drank at least three beers a day, usually a few more. This was to build his tolerance to alcohol. He also scoured the internet for information on prolonging male orgasm. Even though he usually had little to no luck with the ladies back home, surely, he fathomed, things would be different in the M I A. He also took to masturbating three times a day to decrease his sensitivity. He was taking this trip very seriously.

His plane touched down in Miami and he could already feel the warm, humid air from inside the taxiing plane. His excitement increased tenfold. As he took off his Green bay Packers hoodie, that he clearly would not need, he felt for his wad of cash to make sure it was safe.

He was going to spare no expense this weekend. The wad was a loaded banana clip to be sprayed all over Miami in his quest for carnal pleasure.

He got his bag and stepped out to hail a taxi. He saw an unmarked car with the driver leaning on the hood. “You want ride? Where you go?” the driver asked with about as much purchase on the English language as Alonzo had on getting by in the streets of a big city.

“Uh, are you a taxi?” he asked.

“No. I good citizen. I like you. I take where you go” the driver smirked. Alonzo stood there dumbfounded until the driver said, “I joke! Of course I taxi”

They both had a laugh, the driver’s genuine, Alonzo’s more of the nervous sort. Being the people pleaser that he was, Alonzo obliged and stepped into the vehicle despite having reservations.

Through the typical taxi chatter, the driver learned that Alonzo was a fish out of water. “You want ticket for club, much beautiful girl. Good for sex. Go with everybody, even you” the driver offered. “I have good discount”

Slightly offended by the last part of the description, but curious about this oasis of feminine promiscuity, Alonzo asked, “How much?”

“At door $400. Me, $250” the driver answered.

Alonzo rationalized that the $150 he would save on admission, he could buy drinks. “How about 200 bucks?” he asked, feeling like a sly negotiator.

“$225. Last offer.” The driver snapped back.

“Deal!” Alonzo said, reaching for the wad with his chest puffed in pride. The cash caught the driver’s eye and his face lit up like a 50’s neon sign.

“….and kok?” the driver asked.

“Kok?” Alonzo asked, nervously wondering what the driver was going on about.

“Kok! You know, sneef, sneef” the driver answered.

“Oh! Coke” Alonzo corrected. This made him a little nervous. He liked to drink a bit but was not into drugs. He bowed to the tension the driver artificially concocted so well, “Uh, ok. How much?”

“I has good kok. One bag, $200”

Alonzo had no idea if that was a good price or a bad price. On instinct, he felt his hand reaching for his phone to Google it but scolded himself in silence. “I’ll take it” The driver took a sandwich bag full of white powder from the glove box and threw it into the back seat. Alonzo quickly stowed it away in the pocket of his jeans he had specifically bought for the trip. The driver let him off in front of his hotel, considerably lighter in cash. He put his things in his room and went to the hotel computer to look up the club for which he bought a ticket .

To be continued…

I’m in Miami B**** (part2)

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El Gringo pt. 6

Part One     Part Two

Part Three  Part Four

Part Five

 

Gary asked for an officer who speaks English, which wasn´t all that uncommon to have. The receptionist called for Officer Medina.

Officer Medina came up to the front, greeted Gary warmly and asked him to follow him to his office. After leading him there, he sat him down and offered coffee which Gary was more than eager to except.

After throwing back the bitter black liquid and feeling a slight buzz of energy, Gary told his story, again, what he remembered. Officer Medina just shook his head in a show of disappointment. Then, his eyes opened wide expressing surprise. He threw his finger in the air in a Eureka like moment.

“Oh, Gary. I think I know why you are alive today. Let me make a call” Officer Medina furiously dialed a number on his touch tone phone. He was wildly gesticulating and speaking Spanish at 100 miles per hour.

He hung up the phone. “I was right! I know why you are alive today. The jungle saved you my friend”

“How so?” Gary asked.

“I just confirmed that two people were found torn to shreds, probably by a jaguar and it is around where you say this happened. I will send a crew to check it out. Wanna ride along?”

Gary felt uneasy but he thought, with all the help he had received, maybe this would help with the investigation. “Uh, ok” he obliged.

Gary got into a World War II era jeep and was off with Officer Medina and his crew. Gary could not have known this as his memory was so spotty, but they were on the same road that lead him to his captivity and ultimate escape. They started down a jungle road and came to an abandoned car.

“That´s it! That´s the car! I am sure of it” Gary screamed.

“I´ll be damned” remarked Officer Medina. “Let´s take a look around” They all jumped out of the jeep and walked towards the car.

“Take a look in the back seat Gary. Make sure you didn´t drop anything there” Officer Medina said.

Gary was sure he had left nothing but he knew the officer was being nice so he obliged. As he bent forward he felt a prick in his buttocks. Then he felt pressure that smushed him to the bench seat not letting him get up. The crew was speaking in Spanish and the more he tried to understand, the more he couldn´t. He started to feel the same way he did in the bar that night. Maintaining consciousness became labor some.

As the tunnels he was looking through became more black he heard something in Spanish that he could make out.

“Gringo guts gonna get us paid” then he heard laughter. Then he heard nothing.

 

 

El Gringo pt. 5

Part One 

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four 

“Hello….Ola” Gary stammered.

“Deus mio! Un gringo?” the old man responded.

“Si, un gringo” Gary answered.

“What da hell you doing here?” the old man asked.

“Chico led me here” Gary answered.

“Who da hell is Chico?” the old man asked and pumped the shot gun. The sound of the cartridge being chambered dropped Gary to his knees.

“I´m sorry, I gave your dog a name… Chico. I followed him here” Gary said, on his knees with his hands reaching for the sky. “I escaped something terrible. I mean no harm, I need help”

“Oh. You can get up” the old man lowered the shot gun. “I´m sorry about this” he said nodding towards the gun. “Around here, you can´t be too careful. A lot of crazy people”

Gary stood up and offered his hand. “My name is Gary”

“My name is Guillermo, nice to meet you. Come inside. Do you think they followed you?” the old man asked.

“I am pretty sure, no” Gary said feeling hope for the first time.

Once inside Gary told Guillermo everything he could remember. Guillermo explained how he was able to speak English. He had lived for twenty years in New York saving his money to one day go back to his native country and buy a piece of land in the bush and live off the grid.

“I am pretty sure they wanted your guts, but why they left you there, I don´t know” Guillermo said. “It´s pretty common around here. Don´t take it personally either. They do this to locals too. Gringo guts no more valuable than local guts. They saw an opportunity”

“When it light again, we get my truck. I take you to town. Nobody bother you here” Guillermo continued.

Gary thanked him profusely. Gary slept on what might be described as a couch in what might be described as the living room. Chico slept on the floor beside him and did not stir until sunrise.

When day broke, Gary, Guillermo and Chico hiked a few kilometers to where Guillermo kept his truck. It was well camouflaged in a makeshift garage made of cut bush. It was an engineering feat, Gary thought to himself.

When they made it to town, Gary thought it best to go straight to the police to report what had happened. They stopped off at an ATM first. Even though his wallet was gone, they didn´t find his emergency fund ATM card tucked in his underwear. Gary withdrew the equivalent of around $100 USD which was a handsome sum for a person of humble means in these parts. Guillermo refused. “You just come visit me at least once before I die. That payment enough”

They stopped in front of the police department. They said their good byes and the pickup was off, kicking up dust from the dirty cobble stone street.

Part Six