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[rocket_scientist]

Mexican Politics, Mike Tyson, Danish Lesbians And A Mutant



Certain collections of places, people, events and circumstances become memorable because the collective bizarreness. I didn't know it at the time, I had to think about it and then after a while I discovered that this was one of those collections. This story works well when told in public at open mics.

The reasons and circumstances aren't important. I had lots of time and I didn't need to work for about a year so I didn't. I bought a used SUV with the intent to drive from Seattle to Cozumel via Baja. I never made it to Cozumel, the roads were too bad and I got tired of driving. I also decided, things can't get much better than Puerto Vallarta.

I stayed in the bohemian south side, this is where PV was born and matured and then moved out of the house to the north side of town. The south side is eclectic, the best restaurants are there as well as the open air market and cafes and yes, cheap hotels and guest houses. If you want some action, you'll get to the south side.

I was in a hotel and I can't remember the name but it was a good place. Lots the plants and communal furniture and it had that charming colonial theme of stucco and carved wooden chairs. I traveled alone and therefore asked for single rooms and because of the reduced income from that configuration, I was frequently stuck in the less than optimal rooms. This meant I had a room over restruant this time. Someone figured that was not optimal but I was happy at the time. I could see what was cooking every evening and if it was any good. While loitering one afternoon, I met two young women from Europe.

They were a matching pair, like salt and pepper shakers. One was blond and the other a black hair brunette. They were going around the world and they were from Denmark. I can't remember their names, but I made sure I had their pictures.

We were friends for about a week and we did PV things like swim and eat and sunbathe and scuba.

One day after lunch the pair invited me to their room to lounge and loiter. We got there and I took the chair and they climbed into bed together. The afternoon breeze blew the light curtains and the ceiling fan made its requisite noise that didn't seem to disturb the resident gekko. The fan offered no improvement to the sultry tropical atmosphere, it just seemed to contribute a light pulsing rhythmic soundtrack. I made myself comfortable and they moved a bit to gently embrace each other. I watched curiously and apprehensively. The breeze gently blew the curtains again like a soft puffy kiss in a dreamy steamy afternoon. I watched the pair touch each other and a I quietly unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my pants. My large Mexican lunch made me feel bloated and I had gas and unbuckling your pants helps to relieve the bloated feeling. I cut one but I'm certain no one heard. As I watched them hold each other I wondered, are they girlfriends? I asked later and they said yes.

A few days later on a Saturday afternoon the black haired brunette ask me if I wanted to go to the big sports bar to see a Mike Tyson fight. I love watching boxing, in my mind I think I would like to box.
I said �yes!� and we were off to the sports bar in a few hours.
What lesbian thing to do I thought. Ask a man to go to boxing match. I'm not even manly enough to ask a woman to a fight. Why would a woman want to go to a fight? Shopping or perhaps to a garden show but not a fight. Never. I wish I were confident like my Danish friends.
The sports bar was the biggest in PV and it was in a great location. A busy section of downtowntown that was slightly newer than the south side. We got there at about about 5:00 PM.

The Danes inexperience in boxing culture became quickly apparent. These types of broadcasts are designed to last a long time, about five to six hours total. We got there at minute one and the main event was some time off, like five hours off but we couldn't be sure. We got to watch all manner of categories of fights with fighters I have never heard of. This particular Tyson fight came was the fight after the ear biting incident so there was plenty of ear biting comments and jokes.

The prime rib dinner cost about $12 and was rather good. The Danes wanted to drink and they asked for a beer. The waitress declined for some reason and looked apologetic. Perhaps the keg is clogged. Ask again in a few minutes I thought. We did, there was still no beer. Maybe its a beer problem I suggested. I asked for a screwdriver and the waitress just smiled weakly and shook her head. No beer it seemed but plenty of ice cream deserts that the waitstaff gave out freely as some kind of consolation.

There were plenty of others in the bar in the same awkward state. Those others consisted of manly looking American men from the Midwest. Men that accomplished life in an aggressively blue collar way. They looked like the kind of men that worked their way up and had made welding or construction companies solely from the sweat of their brows.

PV is outside of the US but its easy to get to. Plenty of flights, package tours and a very good highway from California and Arizona make driving very easy. These men came to PV just to see this fight. The ice cream was a cruel reward and it just didn't look right next to the thick forearms, hairy chests and cigars. We finally learned that the alcohol had been turned off to quell potential political violence due to a local mayoral election.
I don't know what the hell I did for four hours. My jokes run out after twenty five minutes. My pretty lesbian friends didn't know any jokes. One was the offspring of an Argentinian maid and a Dane so we talked about the Falklands War. That killed about six minutes. Some Mexican men hit on my friends , I guess they thought they could cure them. They left after a while. There were no chicks in the bar. I like chicks but in a way I was the evening stud there with my exotic friends. A potential for hot action later on but certainly no pressure for commitments. I people watched to kill time and I saw hairy men and I saw some men that looked very different.

Those men looked very very different. They were handsome in a very gay looking way next to the construction company owners. They were very pretty. Except for the midget. And the bald guy. He looked like a freak.
The four looked odd enough for me to be insecure. Why would someone have hair like that? Don't they have to go to job interviews? One was big and muscular with great blond hair, another was a somewhat shorter but still very muscular, he was a black hair brunette with hair and a beard that was neither cut nor styled, it was sculpted. The midget had regular midget hair like they have when midgets try to blend in and the bald guy was way off. He didn't have hair, eye brows or even finger nails. How can you collect a groups of friends like that and end up in a beerless place like this? Weirdos. Christ, how about throwing in Zippy or other assorted pinheads? Here Zippy! Have a goddam ice cream!
I am cursed with slow wit and after a few weeks of reflection it occurred to me I had seen the bald man before. I knew him but I could not remember from where or why. His recollection was a mean tease.
Things became clear a few months later when I was at Blockbuster video rental looking a VHS tape sleeves. The bald man reminded me that the hills, in fact, have eyes. Click.

Micheal Barryman is arguably America's greatest living B movie actor. He's best known for the �Hills Have Eyes� and �One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest� . In short, if you need a freak in Hollywood, you call Mr. Barryman.. Mr. Barryman has a collection of health problems that leaves him well functional and well different. He intrigues and scares people and he has wisely turned his lemons into lemonade. He is a fine man and loves his family but fate has clearly set a path for him. The path is largely radioactive and post apocalyptic.

So why was Mr. Barryman in PV at a sports bar? He was in PV, along with the rest of his group shooting the somewhat failed TV series �Conan the Adventurer� at the behest of the project financier, Arnold Schwarzenegger. He was in the bar enjoying his time off with his co workers.

We liked Xena, we were supposed to like Conan too. See the connection? The large blond man, Ralf Moeller, later went on the support act in Gladiator. The short person, Danny Woodburn, later went on to Seinfeld.

The fight? Yea, that happened. I believe it ended in judge's decision where nothing much happens in a fight. The fighters, audience and judges get bored and say �enough� in a judicious manner. I think Tyson lost and then faded into obscurity.

My Danish friends said �lets go home� and that sound good to me. We indeed went home together and we all had sex. Them with each other and me thinking about it.

I never made it to Cozumel. The roads got bad, the driving got tedious and the company wasn't as nearly good as the company in PV. I wanted to go back to Seattle and see an Canadian illegal immigrant named Vonna. I eventually found her and told her the story.

[.38 Special]

I don't know why you told this story here.
I neither know nor care if it is true.

But I enjoyed it. Thanks

[irishcailin]

Passed time for me between classes
Cheers!

[rocket_scientist]