Book — Confessions of a Tour Guide: Chapter 4 — Diaries of a Dirty Old Man.

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Chapter 4. Diaries of a Dirty Old Man.


This is starting to sound like the stereotypical dirty Tijuana diary. Yes. I’m going to write more about hoes.


Oh shit! My editor just emailed me that he accepted a story. He says, “it’s good-ish, but not great.”


Still got accepted. Still, I got paid. But I know exactly what he meant. That’s exactly how I felt about that story.


Hoes. I feel dirty calling them that. And very misogynistic. Prostitutes sound worse. Bitches sound like fun. Bitches and hoes.


There are a lot in Tijuana. All kinds.


I haven’t visited those places in almost a year. 



For this story, I was still a Zona Norte rookie. I sort of understood the complexities of it but also didn’t know much outside Adelitas Bar and Hong Kong.


I still lived in LA.


I still acted as a tour guide despite not knowing the city.


And it’s another adventure again with friends of friends of my brother.





I believe this happened with Andy and Spencer. They had a band back in the day called HFICLSI (pronounced haifa-colasai). I still have that album. I still enjoy that album. It’s a wreckless dirty attempt at mathy post-hardcore a la The Blood Brothers. A lot of jerky guitar riffs, heavy drumming, and crazy yelping. I’m playing it on iTunes right now. 




I was out with those kids in Tijuana. I hung out with them a lot in San Diego before, so again, I don’t remember how things started, I just know we ended up in Zona Norte.


Fuck this story for just a while. I need to make myself breakfast and think about what I’m going to reply to my editor. 


I woke up really hungover today and had nothing to do. I decided to write this chapter since I already have it written in my head. It’s not going like it should. Breakfast and actual work. Then back to this.


That was a series of unexpected emails and events when I was just trying to describe one night many nights ago in Tijuana. Last night. Last night was great. Craft beer is nice and cheap. 


Back then, craft beer didn’t exist in Tijuana. It feels like forever ago, it was just 8 years ago, late 2010.

I went out with Andy and Spencer, probably to a show, or something similar in Tijuana. After that, we decided to venture into Zona Norte with little money.


We started at Adelitas Bar which is way more calm of a strip club than Hong Kong and I sort of prefer that. 


We went straight to an empty table at the left of the entrance. Naked girl dancing on stage. Naked women everywhere. And one of them was basically on our table.


It was some sort of booth-type table and the girl’s ass was literally hovering over my right shoulder facing the other way, sitting on the booth part. I looked at the guys like “heyyyy check it out, naked ass right here.”


The girl saw me checking her out and immediately jumped on my lap.


Yep. Had to buy her a drink.


She said I looked like a stoner. I admitted that I was. I told her that I had some California kush better than anything she’ll find in Tijuana and we started talking about that.


She gestured for her friend to come over. The girl sat between both my friends but it was somewhat awkward and they weren’t feeling her style. I stayed talking to that girl who didn’t move from my lap. The guys wanted out. I told them to hold on.


Another beer.


The girls told us that it was their time to dance. They got up and went to the dressing room. Before that, the girl I was with told me that she was going to give me her Facebook name and phone number. 


The guys wanted out again. I told them I’ll meet them in Hong Kong. 


I waited alone while I saw the two girls dance in the general stage. I threw a couple dollars their way.


Then they went back to the dressing room.


And I waited. 


And waited.


To the point I was like, fuck this, she’s not going to come out and give me her Facebook. I got up to leave.


I saw her rushing from the back, she grabbed me by the hand and pulled me back into the club before I could exit. Then she had me walk with her. She told me the club frowns upon the girls giving their numbers away and sneakily gave me a piece of paper to open later.



I left Adelita Bar with her Facebook and phone number.


Her Facebook name was something along the lines of “psycho NAME chick.” 


I added her later that night. And this story does not end in this chapter.


Went to find the guys in Hong Kong. I was done for the night. I was running out of money and I was already happy with a new contact that I made. And I showed off the contact as if I had struck gold. A hooker’s phone number. How fun. She wanted to smoke and drink with me, and not in a bar. Or so I thought.


They were also running out of money but wanted more and more. We stayed for a couple of beers. They bought a girl a drink.


… not really a girl.


More like an older woman.


She was by far one of the least attractive woman in the whole club. But apparently, affordable.


Because the guys bought her just a couple of drinks and them horny fucks were all over the girl. Like both. Together. Just grabbing her here and there. Andy was trying to kiss her. She was not allowing him. But touching her anywhere was fine. And they kept doing it.


It was… gross.


And at the same time hilarious.


I tried to look away.


But if your vision wanders in places like this, you’ll end up locking eyes with a girl, she’ll end up in your lap again.


It’s impossible to look away in these places.


I’ve tried staring at the TV to distract myself.


Impossible. Eventually, titties or asses will block your view.


I’m pretty sure the TVs are there just for that. To look at something when you are not trying to get a girl. But they don’t work. 



The guys ran out of money. The ugly older woman got up and left. I told them it was time to call it a night. And so we did.


Out of money. Out of luck. Done. 



The rest of the story of the psycho chick comes later.


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