Chapter 37: Crazy 'bout a Mercury

Goleta Taxi service dropped us off at La Chereza Madura on State street.

Ripe Cherry? Telemundo Spanish comes in handy translating names of bars and restaurants.

There was a muscular swarthy brown man with a shaved head at the club-door, as if he was guarding the gates to a sheikh’s harem. Ali spoke to the impressive man and he stepped aside, as we walked in.

"What did you say to him?" I asked.

"I told him you were my date, so I wanted to show you a good time!”

"What the hell, Ali! I’m not gay! What’s wrong with you? Most doormen would have told you to take a hike, with talk like that!"

Ali waved off my comment and replied. “That would never had happened."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because the large man was a sodomite. Didn't you see the earing in his left ear?”

“No, but what does an earring have to do with being queer?”

" How many men do you know have penis-shaped earrings like that?”

"I don't know any guys with earrings in their ears.” I replied.