Wednesday, March 09, 2011

Colors and contrasts

I miss the 8:37 pm bus, which makes me think that maybe I shouldn’t go at all but I’m already getting ready, shitting too much from nerves or adrenaline or whatever, so I rush out to catch the 9:05 bus. The good thing about the buses here is that they go so fast -- I guess that’s because there’s no one waiting on the side of the road, we’ve gone three or 4 miles or however far it is in 10 minutes. I notice there’s a flyer talking about proposed scheduling cuts, are you kidding? They want to stop all bus service after 8 pm, starting in 2012, as if 10 pm isn’t ridiculously early already.

Anyway, I worry that I’ve missed my stop because there’s the Baja taqueria with the surfboards out front, yes let’s go surfing in the desert and I think it’s right after, so I get off in front of some huge car dealership, where the hell am I.? There’s Stevens Consignment, the shop that looks like some barely open Western outpost, kind of small but then you go inside and it just goes on and on, room after room of overpriced crap -- the Danish modern stuff is the craziest, like a table and four chairs for $6800, I’m not kidding -- I go around back to piss, then figure I might as well call information to find out the address for Arcade News, since I’m carrying my phone for the first time in at least a month, just in case, and I don’t want to walk in the wrong direction because I only have 45 minutes as it is.

2821 -- okay, I didn’t go too far, just a few more blocks. Oh, I see the landmark to look for -- the huge neon Cheeks sign towering over the complex, I guess the strip club gets better advertising than the video shack. Inside there’s another middle-aged straight biker guy working, tattoos all over his arms, I ask if I can get 10 ones. For what, he says. For the video booths, I say. He says it costs one dollar to go back there -- oh, okay, I didn’t know that. Do you want the rest in ones? Yes, thank you.

Into the bathroom to shit again, and then around the corner where all the walls are white but somehow it’s still dim, I guess there are actually a fair number of people here because the lights on five or six of the booths are on, but there’s no one in the hallways. There are signs everywhere that specify only one person per booth, no loitering in the hallways, cameras everywhere and I wonder if they actually enforce these rules. Does it say no sexual contact, something like that, my eyes glaze over. I guess every booth has a glory hole, I peer in to see what’s going on, not what I’m looking for, okay maybe this guy with Nautica underwear and overdyed baggy jeans with big belt loops, I’ll put a dollar in, now he’s standing up to leave.

It’s weird the way they have the porn arranged so you have to look up and hurt your neck even before you get on your knees -- the porn is awful -- washed out mid-‘80s guys, or is it washed up? Washed up or washed out -- the story of these places, I guess. Just when I think I’m going to be sitting here forever, nothing will happen except I’ll stare at that hole, look through to the other side that looks like this side except I’m not there, but here’s someone, very white t-shirt under darksweatshirt, khakis, kind of chubby I can’t quite see his face, doesn’t really matter, he pulls his dick out hard in white briefs, okay there it is in my mouth, really hard actually and I’m demonstrating all my talents, but after a while I’m trying to figure out if this is fun, I mean how long will it go on, I’m hurting my neck from the angle and will it be worth it?

There’s the guy telling us to put more money in the booths -- home sweet home -- and
then the guy in the other booth walks away, what time is it? Only 9:35, I’ve got some time, and then there’s someone else already, dark blue jeans even darker than the first guy, I look up to see a sporty white short-sleeved button-down and a goatee maybe, Latino or Mediterranean, old or young it’s hard to tell and I’m already on my knees, he’s pulling his dick out, thick but still soft, foreskin, even once it’s hard it’s soft too and that makes me gentler with my sucking, not as frantic and I’m not sure why exactly, maybe this is more relaxing and then at some point he pulls away, okay, then his face is there all of a sudden, hollow cheekbones, middle-age, scares me for a second and I kind of laugh or smile, he starts to smile too but not quite. Let me see your ass, he says, which I guess means let me poke your asshole with a dry finger and untrimmed nails, I keep pulling away so maybe he’ll get the point, then I look back and he’s putting a condom on his dick, well that’s a rarity, might as well try to get fucked -- it worked last time, right?

So then I’m back to my knees to suck his dick through the condom so he’ll be hard enough, no lube I guess although maybe that’s better since usually I’m allergic, I’ll just use more spit. It takes a while to get it in, but I like the concentration, easier with a wall between us more control for me and I can’t sense impatience although maybe all of this is kind of more like exercise than sex but wait, let me concentrate, oh there we go, almost there, no ouch, okay back, down a bit, I can guide it with my hands and then there’s the moment where I realize he’s fucking me, that’s the best way really, when you realize after it’s already started, still requires concentration until the point when my asshole really relaxes, tensening my sphincter for a moment like they say to do actually helps and then I bend over to get a better angle but also so there isn’t any weight on my hands and when does the guy tell us to put more money in the machine again, definitely before because he doesn’t interrupt and then I’m moaning, that expansion up into my head, yes I could do this for a while but are my legs getting tense and just around then I guess he’s done, or he stops all the way in, so quiet here and when I hear moans I can’t tell if it’s him or the video screen but anyway I grind a bit more until he pulls away, I turn around and jerk my dick a few times, only really need to hold it to shoot through the glory hole and he’s already turned away to leave, misses my show but then as I’m pulling my pants up the other guy’s back, hard dick in white briefs again.

I look at the time, 10:02, I whisper sorry I need to catch my bus, but if I miss it I’ll be back and he says okay, or something that means okay, and when I go out into the main area the guy says you need to remember to put money in the booth, otherwise I’ll have to ask you to leave. He’s angry or something, authority anyway you can get it I guess for straight guys like this and I say sorry, I kept forgetting, have a good night, and he says okay, have a good night, and then I step outside trying not to look like I’m one of I miss the 8:37 pm bus, which makes me think that maybe I shouldn’t go at all but I’m already getting ready, shitting too much from nerves or adrenaline or whatever, so I rush out to catch the 9:05 bus. The good thing about the buses here is that they go so fast -- I guess that’s because there’s no one waiting on the side of the road, we’ve gone three or 4 miles or however far it is in 10 minutes. I notice there’s a flyer talking about proposed scheduling cuts, are you kidding? They want to stop all bus service after 8 pm, starting in 2012, as if 10 pm isn’t ridiculously early already.

Anyway, I worry that I’ve missed my stop because there’s the Baja taqueria with the surfboards out front, yes let’s go surfing in the desert and I think it’s right after, so I get off in front of some huge car dealership, where the hell am I.? There’s Stevens Consignment, the shop that looks like some barely open Western outpost, kind of small but then you go inside and it just goes on and on, room after room of overpriced crap -- the Danish modern stuff is the craziest, like a table and four chairs for $6800, I’m not kidding -- I go around back to piss, then figure I might as well call information to find out the address for Arcade News, since I’m carrying my phone for the first time in at least a month, just in case, and I don’t want to walk in the wrong direction because I only have 45 minutes as it is.

2821 -- okay, I didn’t go too far, just a few more blocks. Oh, I see the landmark to look for -- the huge neon Cheeks sign towering over the complex, I guess the strip club gets better advertising than the video shack. Inside there’s another middle-aged straight biker guy working, tattoos all over his arms, I ask if I can get 10 ones. For what, he says. For the video booths, I say. He says it costs one dollar to go back there -- oh, okay, I didn’t know that. Do you want the rest in ones? Yes, thank you.

Into the bathroom to shit again, and then around the corner where all the walls are white but somehow it’s still dim, I guess there are actually a fair number of people here because the lights on five or six of the booths are on, but there’s no one in the hallways. There are signs everywhere that specify only one person per booth, no loitering in the hallways, cameras everywhere and I wonder if they actually enforce these rules. Does it say no sexual contact, something like that, my eyes glaze over. I guess every booth has a glory hole, I peer in to see what’s going on, not what I’m looking for, okay maybe this guy with Nautica underwear and overdyed baggy jeans with big belt loops, I’ll put a dollar in, now he’s standing up to leave.

It’s weird the way they have the porn arranged so you have to look up and hurt your neck even before you get on your knees -- the porn is awful -- washed out mid-‘80s guys, or is it washed up? Washed up or washed out -- the story of these places, I guess. Just when I think I’m going to be sitting here forever, nothing will happen except I’ll stare at that hole, look through to the other side that looks like this side except I’m not there, but here’s someone, very white t-shirt under darksweatshirt, khakis, kind of chubby I can’t quite see his face, doesn’t really matter, he pulls his dick out hard in white briefs, okay there it is in my mouth, really hard actually and I’m demonstrating all my talents, but after a while I’m trying to figure out if this is fun, I mean how long will it go on, I’m hurting my neck from the angle and will it be worth it?

There’s the guy telling us to put more money in the booths -- home sweet home -- and then the guy in the other booth walks away, what time is it? Only 9:35, I’ve got some time, and then there’s someone else already, dark blue jeans even darker than the first guy, I look up to see a sporty white short-sleeved button-down and a goatee maybe, Latino or Mediterranean, old or young it’s hard to tell and I’m already on my knees, he’s pulling his dick out, thick but still soft, foreskin, even once it’s hard it’s soft too and that makes me gentler with my sucking, not as frantic and I’m not sure why exactly, maybe this is more relaxing and then at some point he pulls away, okay, then his face is there all of a sudden, hollow cheekbones, middle-age, scares me for a second and I kind of laugh or smile, he starts to smile too but not quite. Let me see your ass, he says, which I guess means let me poke your asshole with a dry finger and untrimmed nails, I keep pulling away so maybe he’ll get the point, then I look back and he’s putting a condom on his dick, well that’s a rarity, might as well try to get fucked -- it worked last time, right?

So then I’m back to my knees to suck his dick through the condom so he’ll be hard enough, no lube I guess although maybe that’s better since usually I’m allergic, I’ll just use more spit. It takes a while to get it in, but I like the concentration, easier with a wall between us more control for me and I can’t sense impatience although maybe all of this is kind of more like exercise than sex but wait, let me concentrate, oh there we go, almost there, no ouch, okay back, down a bit, I can guide it with my hands and then there’s the moment where I realize he’s fucking me, that’s the best way really, when you realize after it’s already started, still requires concentration until the point when my asshole really relaxes, tensening my sphincter for a moment like they say to do actually helps and then I bend over to get a better angle but also so there isn’t any weight on my hands and when does the guy tell us to put more money in the machine again, definitely before because he doesn’t interrupt and then I’m moaning, that expansion up into my head, yes I could do this for a while but are my legs getting tense and just around then I guess he’s done, or he stops all the way in, so quiet here and when I hear moans I can’t tell if it’s him or the video screen but anyway I grind a bit more until he pulls away, I turn around and jerk my dick a few times, only really need to hold it to shoot through the glory hole and he’s already turned away to leave, misses my show but then as I’m pulling my pants up the other guy’s back, hard dick in white briefs again.

I look at the time, 10:02, I whisper sorry I need to catch my bus, but if I miss it I’ll be back and he says okay, or something that means okay, and when I go out into the main area the guy says you need to remember to put money in the booth, otherwise I’ll have to ask you to leave. He’s angry or something, authority anyway you can get it I guess for straight guys like this and I say sorry, I kept forgetting, have a good night, and he says okay, have a good night, and then I step outside trying not to look like I’m one of those people fleeing, I just need to catch my bus, 10 pm just a little further down the street and where’s the bus stop again, I think it’s a block up and at this point I’m racing across the highway-street and suddenly there’s a blizzard, snow blowing into my face eyes freezing and I’m running-almost-tripping over the stones arranged on the side of the sidewalk, what do they call that part -- the shoulder? All I know is that I realize I’ll be able to move faster on the actual sidewalk, rushing to the corner I’m glad I wore the wool hat and the cars are zooming by, the colors of neon and streetlights and sky reflected on wet asphalt and this is the moment I really love, maybe that sounds strange and it is strange and that’s why I love it, never thought I would be running across this deserted strip mall anywhere-type bleakness but the snow in my face, the wind blowing my scarves into my face and then away and yes I love all this air the laughter the rush the empty streets here I am.

I’ll admit I don’t like waiting for the bus as much, soda machine at the Days Inn, maybe there’s water there, forgot to mention that when I was sucking that first guy’s dick I noticed my mouth was getting kind of dry, had to consciously add more spit -- that’s because I’m in the desert, right? Not enough water in my pocket but I drink the rest now, that’s when I’m looking at the soda machine, thinking about going inside the motel lobby to ask them to call me a cab since I forgot to bring the number but maybe the bus is just late, some guy is rushing towards me in an overcoat as the wind and snow suddenly stop, the crazy weather at this time of year that really makes the adventure and of course he asks me for a cigarette. No wait the wind is still blowing, drizzle now, the bench too wet to sit on and I think about trying to hitch a ride but I’m not sure whether anyone would stop I mean I’m guessing no one would or maybe they would but I would regret it.

10:30 and I’ve waited long enough, especially once I realize that actually the 10 pm stop is several blocks in the other direction, meaning that here it would be before 10 pm not right after like I thought, a few cabs drive by and I try to hail one but they don’t stop. I kind of want to walk a few blocks anyway, past the Silver Saddle Motel, the strip mall with a place that says alterations and I always wonder about that one because I need some alterations and then I’m in the familiar territory of Petco and Ace Hardware and the Habitat for Humanity ReStore that’s such a scam I mean they charge you so much for the hideous furniture they’re selling, so many of these ridiculously overpriced thrift stores here but then a few ones with bargains too oh, there’s a rabbit right over there, hiding under that bush, kind of scary the way their eyes look in the city all glazed over, staring at me until I leave, Wendy’s, the pet shop across the street that’s now a homeless shelter or drop-in center I mean we already passed that a little while back and now I’m getting tired, I passed all those motels at the beginning but when’s the next one? Studying the rocks they’ve arranged in the dirt on the side of the road, maybe that’s supposed to be a decoration?

Oh, okay -- up ahead -- the El Rey, that one’s kind of nice, elaborate in its white ‘30s-style adobe-stucco lit just right to show all the details and I go inside just after someone else, she and the guy behind the counter look up at me, I mean she looks back and he looks forward, oh she’s security and he says may I help you? Could you call me a cab, I say -- 20 minutes it turns out and I’m getting tired but I walk around in this lobby, gorgeous with all this ‘30s period highlights, postcards of the place but they’re two dollars each, that’s a little pricey, but how old could this motel really be, I mean when did they start building motels -- the ‘50s? Maybe earlier for the first ones and I’m glad I’m here, studying the window panes and the houseplants, tourist brochures in business card size, have I seen that before? But wait -- my cab is already here -- the ride back is so fast that it almost makes me think I should get a car, just for occasional trips like this, but no that would hurt my body and I would use it more often and that would hurt my body more and I hate cars anyway. Open the door to my apartment and it’s so bright all the colors and contrasts oh I love it here.

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