Hopeless Love by Jonathon Waterman - HTML preview

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El Gato Feliz

Chapter 34

 

Inside El Gato Feliz, upbeat Latin music played, tall glass mugs filled with foaming favorite brews clanged, and countless loud conversations could be overheard between the men sitting with other men, ladies sitting with ladies and occasionally but not really rare, a man and a drag queen.

Excitement sizzled at the most popular gay bar within Arica’s city limits, except for one lonely occupant sitting by himself in far corner booth. There, a tall, tanned youth who couldn’t have possibly been any older than eighteen, sat alone.

Judging by the way his head was hanging and the number of empty mugs in front of him, it seemed that he was either trying to beat the speed record for getting drunk, or perhaps his goal might have been to go one step further and achieve unconsciousness.

“That’s one heck of a song,” Chad said, walking up to the youthful handsome stranger sitting at the only spot that still had an empty seat. “I’m surprised your local band would even attempt to play In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida. It's a difficult tune. … By the way, I’m Chad Buckingham. I just arrived from Miami, and you are?”

José frowned, then took the thick glass mug in front of him, and swiftly downed its half-filled golden-brown contents in a single gulp. “I’m someone who really doesn’t give a damn about who you are, or where you might have come from. Now leave me alone, Gringo.”

Chad stepped a foot back. “Wow. For being one of those so-called super friendly Chileans I've always heard about, you certainly are unsociable.”

“Unsociable?” José questioned, slamming his mug on the table. “What in the living hell do you think you know about Chileans anyhow, mi amigo americano estúpido? (My stupid American friend)  Not to mention, why are you in Arica? Did you happen to get lost on your way to Santiago?”

José then motioned for him to take a seat, and waved a nearby server to bring them a fresh beer.

“No. I purposely arrived here from Santiago,” Chad answered while lowering himself. “I’ve been looking for a friend … a female.”

José grimaced and shook his head. “That’s certainly a waste of time. Not to mention, the expense of traveling here. … Women are definitely nothing but trouble. If you were smart, you would have stayed in Miami where you belong. …And believe me, I should know. A girl I’ve been dating for the last few years just dumped me.”

“She just up and dumped you?” Chad repeated. “Like that?”

 “Yeah. Isn’t it the pits,” José said, completely oblivious to how the early twenty-something, good-looking waiter had casually walked up to their table and given his new friend a wink as he sat two brews in front of them. “You think you really know a girl after you’d been dating her for several years. Then suddenly, just because of a single stupid mistake, she dumps you.”

“Wow. That sounds rough. Perhaps that’s why I’ve never gotten serious with a female. Unlike a good boyfriend, I keep hearing that a girl, without even the slightest warning, will break your soul in pieces and stomp each bit so far in the ground, it’ll take a miracle to find them.”

“You got that right.” José grinned his agreement, before hurriedly downing his fifth brew. “By the way, you are gay, aren’t you, Chad?”

Chad’s eyebrows instantly rose, and his pupils widened. “Well, yeah. I think that’d be a fair assessment. … I really don’t know a whole lot of straights who would deliberately enter a predominately gay bar for a drink. Do you?”

Jose's eyes did a fast 180 around the room, and in doing so couldn’t help but notice a thirty-something same-sex couple a few tables away romantically kissing, and countless others enjoying themselves on the dance floor.

“Yeah. I guess you do have a point there. This certainly is one hell of a gay bar,” he replied. “And it’s starting to make me wonder, what the fuck am I doing here?”

Chad slid backward in his seat. “You're not gay?”

José acted as if he was going to nod yes, and then suddenly stopped. “Well. Yes and no,” he slowly answered. “You see; I sort of am. I’m a transvestite, but my girlfriend doesn’t know. And, if I’m correct, the only person that I even halfway know who ever saw me in a dress was Elena. … She’s Carlita’s friend, and Carlita’s best friend is Michelle.”

“Michelle?” The name rang a distinctive bell, but Chad was unable to place it.

“Yeah. Michelle. The bitch who got me drunk at a Halloween party last October and now claims I got her pregnant.”

Chad chuckled in reply. “How interesting. It certainly sounds like you have an exciting life, my friend.  But if I may ask, how can you have a girlfriend and also supposedly make another girl pregnant - if you’re a transvestite?”

José gave Chad a look, as if he surely had to be an idiot.  “Didn’t you hear what I just told you? I thought I also said I’m Bi, as in Bi-sexual. I’ve been that way since birth.”

“Really?” Chad exclaimed, raising a single brow as he took another drink. “I’ve never known a Bi before. Everyone I’ve ever known has been either gay or straight.”

José silently ordered another round of beers. “Well. You know one now, my friend. And by the way, I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell my Dad. He doesn’t know and only tolerates gays because he has to because of his business. He happens to run an open market.”

Chad responded with a nod. “I see.” Then a brief moment of silence developed.

“By the way,” he continued. “It’s seems like you have done it with women before, but … have you ever experienced the delicacy of being with another man?”

José exposed an innocent grin.

“That’s what I suspected,” Chad began, gently taking hold of Jose's hand. “I’ll tell you what, ex-Romeo. I’ve got a room over at the Panamericana Hotel near the airport. Why don’t we head over there and have a few drinks while we continue this discussion? … You never know, shortly afterwards; we might even enjoy a mutual good time.”

A horde of travelers rushed out of the 747 like a busload of adolescents entering Disney World, the moment permission to exit Lan Chile flight 52 was granted. Many, wearing bright-colored, short-sleeved shirts and denim blue jeans, appeared to be more than happy to enter Arica’s regional airport, despite it being only a fraction of the size of the one in Santiago.

“So where do we go now?” Mike asked as he and Eric slowly looked at the unfamiliar surroundings. “Chad could literally be anywhere, and the only thing substantial we know is ... Maria's parents own a chain of jewelry stores.”

Eric chuckled. No doubt, packing our stuff and rushing to South America was probably nothing short of impulsive insanity. Yet, Chad needed to be saved … at least from himself.

“Her parents' stores would probably be closed by now or would be soon after we made it downtown,” he commented, while glancing at his Timex.

It showed it was getting close to 9 PM.

“I think our best bet is to stop by Baggage Claim and then find a motel or something.”

“You think? ... Okay. If you say so. But it better not be a flea-bitten cheap one. You know I can’t stand anything like bedbugs or cockroaches.”

Eric gave his country bumpkin boyfriend a hard stare, as if the kid had instantaneously transformed into a small child.

“Cockroaches? Bedbugs?” he questioned. “What do you think this place is, Mike … some third-world country or something?”

Mike affirmatively nodded. “In my book it is. Just look around you. This airport … it looks like something you’d expect to find ...”

“In a place like, Potomac, Illinois?” Eric completed for him, but in a way he didn’t expect. “And isn’t that one of the largest cities where you’re from, Sweetheart.”

Mike scowled and became silent.

“Just because a city is relatively small in comparison to Miami, and might not be as modern – that doesn’t make it third world, Mike. Let’s give this place a chance,” Eric said as they proceeded toward Baggage Claim. “You never know; it might even surprise us.”

“You actually believe that malarkey.”

“Yeah.” Eric replied, now pointing to a large glass-framed poster advertising the Panamericana Hotel. “Just take this place, for example. According to what this billboard says, it has large comfortable suites that include queen-size beds and a stocked mini fridge. They also offer fantastic dining, a huge swimming pool, and massage services.”

“Really?” Mike looked surprised. “I wonder where it’s at?”

Eric paused so he could read the location.

“According to this, it’s just down the road, and it supposedly offers reasonable rates. We might want to check it out.”

Mike smiled, then nodded his agreement.