Book — Confessions of a Tour Guide: Chapter 22 — Conclusion. 

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Chapter 22. Conclusion. 

I just turned 32-years-old. Facebook posts from friends and people I haven’t talked to in years are posting congratulations on my wall.

I usually hate my birthday. People give too much importance to it. Which puts pressure on having a good time. But it’s just a day. Worse. It’s a Wednesday. And I have some work to do. Work that I don’t want to do. 


Last birthday, I got drunk as fuck early during the day and passed out in the early afternoon. I don’t know why birthdays depress me. 

 

This year, I’m just trying to let it be. I don’t feel as depressed as other birthdays past. 

 

I don’t understand people that like their birthdays.

 

What is to like about getting older? 

 

Count it.

 

I’ve lived for 11, 680 days.

 

Toddler years don’t really count. 

 

I’ve lived for 9855 days.


It seems like a waste.


 

What’s next? 

 

Nothing is next. The same as always. Beer and tacos. Beer and tacos. Beer and tacos.


 

I read all I wrote for the past months. I repeat myself a lot.

 

I repeat myself a lot.

 

I repeat myself a lot.


 

Many stories are missing. Many bachelor parties blend into one. I got three emails about bachelor parties this week. That’s not a common occurrence. 


I just rejected one. They wanted a tour for this Friday. Replied that I’m booked. I’m not really booked. I just didn’t like the way he emailed me. Also, he wanted a bachelor party and strip clubs, no mention of craft beers or fancy food. 

 

I feel like I am retiring from those.

 

I’m not sure what I’m going to do with my tours.

 

I’m not sure what I’m doing with all this crap I’m writing.

 

I do have to work Saturday morning. So fuck doing a bachelor tour Friday night…


 

Next tour is in a week. Old couples. Much more my speed. Craft beer, street tacos, fancy eats, Tijuana views, and perhaps a dive bar. 

No more craziness. 


Ted’s Story.

 

One last crazy bachelor story. 


 

We had to carry Ted across the border. This was probably my favorite bachelor party. I was hired by the best man, who had a Chinese name. I was nervous that it was going to be a Chinese tour.

 

Nah. Of course, they were Chinese Americans. And not all of them. It was around 8 guys, half of them were white boys. 


 

Fuck. My bachelor tours blend so much, that I don’t remember if one of the white boys was a reformed yoga teacher. I’m thinking that’s from a different tour, but for the sake of this fucking story, he was a part of that group.

The yoga white boy had long greyish beard and hair, wore sandals, and other hippie bullshit. Apparently, he was recently married and he had all been doing his yoga persona for a couple of years. Before that, he was a businessman that was always clean-shaven and it was all about the money.


 

Yoga white boy was quiet for most of the tour. Barely drinking. Being a hippy. Peacefully observing the bachelor party mess.


 

It wasn’t much of a mess. It was the classics. Tacos, beers, cocktails, tequila shots for the bachelor, party, party, party.

And then! 

To the strip clubs.


We got to Hong Kong and I grab a table for the whole group. Then took a couple of the guys and the bachelor, Ted, to get him a couple of girls.

 

That’s what I usually do at bachelor parties. Grab the best man or a couple of the guys in the party, find hot girls for the bachelor, sit him down, and have the first lap dance.

 

From there on, the party always splits and they do their own debauchery.


 

With Ted… we walked to the back. He sat down where they were doing the show de espuma. Imma gunna repeat myself once more. Show de espuma is two or more naked chicks covered in shaving cream that you can finger for a dollar. It’s fucking nasty. 


It’s really fucking nasty. I went with a good friend from my hometown when he came for a short visit years ago. It was Monday, so not much was open and I always have to show people that are new to Tijuana to Hong Kong. The first girl we saw had the most beautiful pussy I’ve seen… no panties. Just pussy. I remember my friend’s face lit up like he just saw the face of god and it only cost him one dollar to see it.

 

Later that same night, I remember watching the show de espuma, but not watching the girls… just watching the audience. The wolf hungry audience. 25-30 horny men salivating at two naked young girls. Throwing money. 

 

I am sure the girls in there are in drugs. This shit is a bit extreme. $5 and you can grab a dildo and go to town with them. Guys sometimes delve in and lick the pussy that is covered in shaving cream while the girls slide around the stage for another guy to do the same. So many dirty fingers being shoved in exchanged for money, and then they lick that…

That’s the show de espuma.

 

You can understand why I want to retire from this shit.


Another story that went missing was with some Canadians. Just three guys. Not a bachelor party. Just a Tijuana Adventure that ended in Hong Kong. Many tours ended up there and not necessarily were they bachelor parties. 

One of the three Canadians was an extremely good looking dude. We were drinking beers at Plaza Fiesta, because back then, Plaza Fiesta was actually good. Two cute short Mexican girls approached him (and his friend) while I was talking to the Moroccan-Canadian dude. The girls were really cute, and the dude blew them off. And after asked me, “those were hookers, right?”

 

NO DUDE! They fucking weren’t! They were two cute girls that wanted you…

 

That night… we did end up in Hong Kong with hookers… The Moroccan-Canadian dude was so happy spending $5 to grab a dildo and go to town with the girls in the show de espuma. He thought it was two pumps and done. NOPE! You can really go to fucking town with them. 

 

The Moroccan-Canadian dude came back. My tours blend so much and I’ve done plenty that I didn’t even notice him. It was halfway through the tour that he was like, “yo, remember me? We toured together before!” And I came to the realization of who he was. He was with a different group that time… 


 

Fucking tours.


 

Well…

Ted sat in front of the show de espuma. I told his friends to give him money so I can give it to Ted so he can go to town. I yelled at the girls on the show de espuma that it was his bachelor party and show them a $20. They didn’t fucking hesitate. They knew there was more money to be thrown. One of them instantly climbed on Ted covering the poor guy on shaving cream and the other said: “let’s grab him and put him on stage.”

 

So I helped Ted go on stage and told his friends near me that this is going to get out of control.

 

They stripped Ted down to his underwear. Ted was wasted. He was loving the stage and did a little dance with the girls. Then they laid him down on his back, one climbed on his face, and the other climbed on his cock (with boxers still on). And they started grinding and performing other things… 

 

When this shit started to happen, I ran to the table (that was at the other far end of the strip club) to tell all of Ted’s friends what was going on. 

 

They all went to check it out, leaving behind sunglasses, jackets, and other shit on the table. So I stayed behind with the best man. We discuss what will happen in the next few hours for the bachelor party and while figuring shit out… We saw him.

 

Ted was fucking running around the strip club down to his underwear covered in fucking shaving cream, literally fucking running like a little kid, screaming “I AM GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW WOOOO I AM GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW!!!!” 

 

It was a hilarious view. 

 

The bachelor party kept going. Ted kept getting wasted. At some point, we thought we had lost him. And that’s when we saw him with a girl that was trying to take him up to the room though he was WASTED beyond capabilities of deciding what to do. Luckily, we found him and stopped him. The girl was pissed, but Ted gave her some money anyway. 


 

Not even midnight and it was time to go back. We had to carry Ted to the border. Poor guy couldn’t walk. 


What happened with the white yoga hippy dude? Well… that was a different tour. But the point of that hippy dude was that I ended up losing him on that tour.

 

He was supposedly the calmest most chill dude. But when we arrived in Hong Kong, he fucking disappeared. I didn’t hear from him that night. I had to split the party in two. Part of the party stayed in Hong Kong while I took the rest to the border.

 

I was told that they found him hours later. Apparently, he went up to the rooms with a couple of girls. And repeated. And repeated. 

 

Hippy dude had a thing for threesomes. 


 

And that’s barely a tip on the iceberg of what Tijuana can provide. 


 

Libertarian hedonism stuck in fake progress. 

 

So much change, so little change, the dollar still rules supreme. 

 

Anarchy. Drugs. Sex. Sleepless City. Murder. Drugs. Drugs. Sex. Sex. 

 

Craft Beer. Fancy Baja-Med cuisine. Amazing street tacos. 


 

I just got an email asking about barbershops. There are so many barbers in this city. It’s fucking wild how many barbers there. A tour client that later became a friend comes from Los Angeles to get a haircut and his beard shaven. The fucker can’t even grow a beard! 

 

But he still comes for the weekend with that excuse. Then he just enjoys the city.


 

And enjoy the city I will. It’s my birthday, which doesn’t really mean crap. I want to play tennis again. I’ve been playing tennis with my buddy. Yes. I won the first game… and the last two… We tied!

 

We had a tie-breaker on the one before last, and I think I won… But it was more of a tie.

 

And this last game, it was just a straight-up tie. One set each. Third set and the score was 6-6. Instead of playing the tiebreaker… we just left it at that. It was also getting dark that we could barely see the ball.


Then we had beers, more beers, saw a couple friend, told them it was my birthday, more drinks, a couple of joints, and then home. With el Pinche Kevin. I barely beat him on tennis, but I own him on Super Smash Bros. I fucking beat him with Jigglypuff against Cloud. He beat me right after that… but HAH! 

 

Jigglypuff!


 

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Book — Confessions of a Tour Guide: Chapter 17.5 — Ensenada Again And the Last Bachelor Tour.

If you enjoyed this, please support me at: https://www.patreon.com/Matingas


 

Chapter 17.5. Ensenada Again And the Last Bachelor Tour.

And yes.

That was a fucking gruesome tour. By the end of it, I told them I was retiring. They might have been the last bachelor tour I ever do. 

 

Fifteen fucking people. I guess one didn’t show up. Or I was the sixteenth.

 


 

I was early for the tour. There was absolutely no border wait line. I was supposed to meet them at the border at 4:00 pm. I crossed by 3 pm, didn’t see them until almost 5:30 pm.

 

The bachelor was wasted already. He had been drinking since waking up at around 8ish a.m. His brother seemed to be in control.


 

It was around 7 American-Hindu guys, one Hindu with an accent, and the rest white boys. 

 

Sorry for the generic description. My tours tend to be one big blur. I think I’ve only done around 20 bachelor tours… and I barely remember a single person. Except for Ted. Ted was great.

 

I still have to tell Ted’s story.


 

The tour started at Norte Brewing Company. The views and the beers there are always killer. Moving around 15 people is a pain in the ass. 

 

The bachelor requested Mision 19. We actually reserved the place… 

 

But it’s outside of downtown. Moving 16 people to Mision 19 was a real tough mission. You could say it was an impossible mission…

 

Ok.

 

You can stop reading me now.


 

…..

 

So I decided to skip Mision 19 and convinced them it was the right move. Not only that, fuckers were already wasted and obnoxious. And I’m not taking them to Mision 19 like that. Improvising is the name of the game.

 

I led them to La Cevicheria Nais. On the way there, the bachelor hired mariachis to follow him around and play music. Fucking hilarious shit. 


 

I went directly to the manager of La Cevicheria Nais and told him I had a bachelor party of 16 people. They shuffled so quick to get us a giant table ready for us in the back of the restaurant.

 

The service, like always, was great.

 

Pricey.

 

But fucking great.

 

The total check was around $850+ tip for 16 guys who drank a bottle and a half of tequila, more than 20 mezcal old fashioned drinks, I saw a few mezcalitas going around, and a couple of beers.

 

Also, two or more tacos each and a few specialty plates.

 

Point was… it was a fucking feast.

 

And a drunken feast.

 

The manager of the place came to the bachelor to give him the classic tequila shot from the bottle in his mouth.


 

And from there… to fucking Hong Kong. The biggest craziest brothel I’ve ever seen.

 

Some guys even said the same thing… they’ve been to clubs in Southeast Asia, nothing like this. 


 

Seriously. FUCK THAT PLACE.

 

It’s so good at first, but it’s so bad once you are burnt out. Fuck that place.


 

But if I’m there… I have to enjoy myself. Can’t be at Hong Kong and not get “Chinese food.” And by that I mean, I chose one girl from the hundreds and buy her drinks for her to sit on my lap and dance.

 

She also helped me not to lose the guys. Which was hilarious. Her name was Merlina. 

 

HAHA

 

Fucking Merlina.

 

Like a creep, I asked her her real name later.


Then she showed me pictures of her kid and her American boyfriend. 

She was only 20-years-old. Divorced. She got married at the age of 16. How that is a thing in Mexico still… I have no fucking clue.

She said that it was normal for her and her family. And she was happy to be divorced and working there. She was adorable. But for some reason, her two front teeth were heavily discolored. And her teeth weren’t bad, they didn’t seem crooked or anything. Just the front two were yellow. 


 

The tour ended at 1ish a.m. 

 

Some guys wanted to stay. But instructions of the bachelor and the brother were that everyone must go together back to the border.


 

Somehow I got them all together. Three were lost. So I took the rest of the party to get tacos while I went looking for the missing guys.

 

What a fucking shitshow.

 

But it all ended well.

 

We walked back to the border. It was dark as fuck. The scary bridge with flickering lights didn’t even have lights this time. But it’s fucking 16 dudes. And one guy was 6’8. I doubt robbers want to mess with that group. 


 

By the way, the guy that was 6’8 took a girl to the hotel room and said he couldn’t do anything because the girl said he was too big… He wanted to complain, but that doesn’t really work in Hong Kong and plus fuck it. That sounds like a good excuse to not be with a prostitute.


 

Mission successful. I made decent money + tips. But holy fuck is that shit tiring.


 

And after I dropped them at the border, I had money in my wallet and had the desire to go back. But not to Hong Kong. Just another shitty club in the area. 

 

I’ve learned my mistakes at Rio Verde but for some reason, it was calling me. That place is a dirty drug-fueled mess. Before stepping in, I decided against it. So I went to my classic cantina for a beer.


That was not enough. On my walk home, I decided to check out a drag show… At Villa García bar.

 

And that bar turns out to be a gay Hong Kong or something. So many guys hit on me that night. I accepted a couple of Tecate Lights. There were beautiful transsexual women at a corner of a bar. There were also a lot of non-passable crossdressers.

 

And 10 guys only wearing underwear running around and dancing on everyone. 

 

It’s a fucking riot.

 

Gays have beyond great sex life and I’m jealous of it.

 

But I couldn’t.

 

I lied about my name, told them my name was Charlie. I lied about where I was from, told them I was from Texas. I didn’t even speak Spanish to anyone. 

 

So for a couple hours, I was gay Charlie. And I’m happy to say that a lot of gay guys find me attractive. An older gay couple came to me and told me I was cute and bought me more beer. Transsexuals were giving me the eye. One of them danced on me… and then she got mad because she tried to kiss me and I turned away. Other gay guys tried their luck and I played hard to get. 

 

I felt like a pretty whore. 


 

This chapter was the continuation of Ensenada. It wasn’t meant to talk that much about bachelor parties. 


 

I can’t Ensenada as well as I can Tijuana. I won’t do Valle de Guadalupe tours because I barely know the place. And every time I go it changes.

 

Plus, it’s fucking expensive. And I don’t know much about wine.

 

If you have the chance to go to Valle de Guadalupe… fucking do it.

 

The same goes with Ensenada. It’s an awesome place to visit. And I want to do it more often.


Though I don’t know much about Ensenada… I ended up being a tour guide there last weekend. I knew more than the Americans I was with that had absolutely no clue about Ensenada.

 

Texting my friend Kelvin also helped. He told me where the party was at.


 

Before the wedding, it was some sort of bachelor tour, but not quite. My friend is not into strippers and refused to go to the strip club in Ensenada. The best one, supposedly, is Paris de Noche. I still have never been. From what I heard the next morning… It wasn’t very good. Or not nearly as good as Hong Kong.


Instead of that, we went for street tacos, walked to downtown, did Cantina Hussong’s because is the classic cantina in Ensenada. It was packed, so we moved out after the first beer. Everything seemed shitty and like a tourist trap. Kelvin came up with the suggestion of Distrito Barra Pública.

 

He nailed the suggestion. Quiet place with a nice patio with great beer. Exactly what the party wanted. And after that… everyone back to their hotel for the wedding the next morning.


My hotel…?

 

The groom of the wedding got an Airbnb for me and other people at the wedding. It was fucking next to the house I stayed four years ago.

 

It was a really nice big house, but not as huge as the house next door. Ocean views, it could easily fit 8+ people and it’s only $150 a night. 

 

And the first night, only me and the groom’s brother stayed there. In the kitchen counter, the owners left us a bottle of wine… How romantic.

 

It wasn’t awkward, but it did feel like a waste of space. So for the second night, we invited more people to stay with us after the wedding.


Oh.

 

And the wedding.


 

Wedding was work for me. I also ended up being a translator in general… I ran around everywhere and took thousands of pictures.

 

When my flash died and the party was in general winding down, I sat down exhausted and had some more beer.

 

Yes. I drank throughout the wedding. I take better pictures that way.


I don’t know how it happened.

 

I just know that I was telling her “are you sure you want to do this?” while calling an Uber to the Airbnb. I also remember making out with her.


 

Who was her?

 

Well… the wedding didn’t really have that many attractive women except the bride and older women.

 

And she was old. Yet attractive. And weddings + Ensenada. That’s just a cocktail for disaster. 

 

An actual GILF. She was more than double my age. 


 

Again. I don’t know how it happened.

 

But I took her to an Uber back to the Airbnb with me and we woke up naked next to each other.


That’s all you need to know.

 

And some in the party found out… 

 

Because on my way back to Tijuana from Ensenada they asked me about it. And they saw me as some sort of legend. And the reassurance from the guy that was the same age as me that he would have done the same is nice.

 

For me… 

 

It was one week ago. And I’m still in shock.


Sorry, mom.

 

Hope you never read this but I’m sure you will.


 

Now to move on. I have shit tons of photo work to do. That’s why I might retire my tours. I’m making good money with pictures. And if all this shit that I’m writing makes me good money. Then… fuck. Tours are done for sure. Or just making them hella expensive.

 

Money is good. Mkay? 


 

And my upcoming homework is great. The taco issue. I get to eat tacos, photograph them, and write about it. 

 

That’s what I am doing for the next couple of days. Then more work work work.

 

And soon to be finished with this shit.