Where Else But Juarez?

I am here, a stone’s throw from the border, hanging out with eleven of the hottest guys in El Paso, and I am related to at least three of them. Manuel and Robin are my cousin Yvette’s kids and another guy is her husband’s nephew.

We are all crowded around this table, right in front of the speakers, talking man to man, cuz this is Mexico and the culture is very macho. Or it was till I arrived.

Not one to loiter in testosterone zones, I jumped up and started working my game. Not my usual one, which would not work in conservative North Mexico, I went with anew tact, pity.

All night I told young beauties that I was here with eleven of the hottest men in El Paso and since my relatives were getting all the attention, I needed the ladies company to ease my battered ego.

Surprisingly, this actually worked! At first, the women would look past me and drool at my comrades lounging around in manly poses, but then it would hit them. The guys, while all smoking hot, were all young, between 18 and 24, while I always picked mid-twenties hotties to talk to.

As one said perfectly, ‘Oh, they are boys, and I like men. Why don’t you have a seat?’

And so it went till around midnight when jet-lag and unfamiliar beds caught up with me and I crashed at the table, snoozing till the bar closed.

Then it was time for the best game of them all to start, the last mack attack known as the Paso Del Norte bridge. Here, in a sea of cars inching across the border back into the USA, the guys made their last moves on the Cinderella’s sneaking home before it was pumpkin time.

Out of the Escalade we tumbled to make that last minute move, with one guy really working his ass off. Up to several cars he went, laying down lines and pulling out ladies, even getting one to dance while her friends laughed and cheered.

With his success here better than his Bardu performance, it made me wonder: why hit the bar at all? Where Else But Juarez can we just circle a bridge and have better luck than a bar?