Date: Thu, 21 Oct 2010 21:19:34 -0700
From: tabrams@pacbell.net
Subject: Muleshoe, Texas

Out of body experiences happen once in a while and often when we least
expect it.  Some are exotic and some mundane.  When they happen in
Albuquerque its usually earthy and never what you might imagine in the land
of enchantment.  It was around 1AM in a gay bar on the outskirts of the
city.  One of those low brow watering holes full of drag queens and real
cowboys.  What an odd combination-----but they seemed to get along just
fine.  The alcohol flowed like water and the twelve steps did the two step
like nobody's business.  I have a weak spot for Hispanic/Indian cowboys and
by golly there at the end of the bar was a short muscular guy in levis and
a cowboy hat.  I squeezed in beside him to get a better look and could see
he was really drunk....really working hard to sit up straight and not cause
a scene.  But he was handsome.  Kissy lips, big brown eyes like a baby seal
and thick black mustache.  He gave me a smile and I was hooked--at least
for the evening.  Last Call!  The bartender shouted and we were on our own.
The patrons stumbled out into the parking lot and I followed my cowboy to
his old Dodge truck.  The bed was dusty with cattle feed, the cab filled
with cigarette ashes and the seats were ripped.

For an anal retentive California urbanite, it wasn't what I was used to.
But I was on vacation so what the hell.  I got in the passenger side and
the cowboy got behind the wheel and proceeded to pass out...falling
sideways onto my lap, his hat falling to the floor of the truck.  Now
anyone in their right mind, thank you, would have called it quits right
there and gone back to where they were staying.  But nope, not me.  I got
in the driver seat, slid my buddy over, dove my hand in his pockets and
fished out his ignition keys.  And while I was rummaging around, I unzipped
his fly, pulled his uncut dick out and had a little taste before the drive
back to wherever.  I had no idea where this guy lived, so I dug for his
wallet to see where we were going.  There ain't nothing quite like doing
the gay fertile crescent at two in the morning------you know: the keys, the
dick and the wallet.

His license was from Texas.   Muleshoe, Texas.   Where the hell was that??
Since these were the pre-google days, I went back into the bar and someone
got me a map of New Mexico.    Geez-o-Pete.   Motherfucker!    I was in the
middle of the state and Muleshoe was clear over past Clovis  just over the
Texas state line.   Did I really want to do this?

I looked over at my passed out buddy,  leaned over and unzipped him again,
sucked on his nuts and sniffed his crotch.   Catnip for the weak and
willing,  I pushed in the clutch and turned the key.  We were off to
Muleshoe..    I just hoped the address in the wallet was correct.    The
truck had Texas plates so that was a good sign.

After three hours of driving, just across the Texas border,  my passenger
was still passed out and two lights suddenly appeared on the dashboard.
Low fuel and temperature warning.   Shit!   I had some money and a credit
card,    but an overheating engine in a truck I knew nothing about was way
out of my league.

I couldn't communicate with my drunk friend, so when I retained my
composure, I pulled off onto a dirt road to let the truck cool off.  The
truck was leaking coolant and there was a yellow container with a little of
it left, sitting in the bed.  I found an old rag and it was just a matter
of waiting before the engine cooled down and I could add more liquid to the
radiator.

So I had time.  Lots of it.    It was quiet and the stars in the clean sky
lit up the surrounding foothills.   Nice!    My attention turned to the
drunk passenger and so I did what any red blooded fag would do in this
situation.  I opened the passenger door, and slid my friend sideways across
the seat, pulled down his pants and ate his ass while I jacked off.

After I came,  instinctively, I opened the glove box to look for some
Kleenex to wipe off the cum that seemed to be everywhere.   There was no
Kleenex but,  there was a pistol in a holster.    Great!  Shit!  Dammit!
Just my fucking luck------ a gay Jew in a truck I didn't own, with a loaded
pistol and druck Mexican.   Not to mention the HIV meds in my pocket and
sperm all over the passenger seat!  And in Texas, no doubt------all good for
30 to life in prison without parole------minimum.

I took a few dozen deep breaths and regained my composure------      I took
the rag and cleaned off the sperm,  dressed my gay crash dummy and sat him
up straight in the seat----cowboy hat placed in his lap.  I tried placing
the hat on his head but every angle looked too queer.   I left the gun where
it was...then added the antifreeze/coolant, tossed the cum rag,  fired up
the Dodge and prayed that I would find a gas station open this late.

As luck would have it, my friend started to regain consciousness.    We
found an all night station in Bouvine, Texas and I  bought some coolant as
well as two huge coffees .   I did not want to use a credit card.   By the
grace of God, I did not want any trace of this evening's adventure anywhere.


Still woozy, my buddy guided us to his place in Muleshoe.   Thank goodness
the address in his wallet WAS his residence.

We pulled up and I turned the key off in the ignition.   The sky was
starting to lighten up and I held the steering wheel in both hands and
collapsed in the middle of it with relief.

The house was dark and full of Mexican roommates all sharing three rooms.
The sink was full of dirty dishes caked with chorizo and egg.

I found some dried out baloney in the frige an mashed it between a couple
hot dog buns, took my meds and collapsed on the floor.

A few hours later I awoke to some Mexican music.    The roommates were awake
and trying to figure out what this damn gringo was doing in the middle of
their living room floor.

Nobody spoke English and my friend was nowhere to be found.   The truck was
gone and the roommates mumbled something about trabajo.

I went to the bathroom to pee and splash a little water on my face.    The
roommates looked anxious, so off I went on foot looking for a Greyhound
station in downtown Muleshoe----if there was such a thing-------hoping to
make my way back to Albuquerque some day.