It was October 2005. I had just moved to San Diego. For the second time. I lived at Palm Ave. and the 805, two exits from Tijuana. And I was an alcoholic and addict. A friend of mine told me about a brothel down there that was a “must check out”. I didn’t really know much about Tijuana, and despite my roommate, Dale's, warnings, I threw on some nice clothes, had a pocket full of cash, jumped in the company vehicle and drove down to the border.
I parked on the U.S. side and decided just to walk over through the entry gate. There was a sea of taxi cabs, peddlers selling everything from gum to fake Rolexes, and border patrol. I was greeted by a taxi driver, “where to?” he said. “Adelitas”, I replied. And the guy smiled really big. “Ahhhh yes. Adelitas. Very good choice mi amigo.” And at the time I thought it was.
I arrived at the bar, and walked into something that felt like the old west, except all of the cocktail servers were gorgeous women wearing lingerie. There were two-seater booths throughout the whole place. I took a seat and in less than ten seconds I was accompanied by one of the “servers”. We engaged in conversation, she served me beers, and after a few beers, she pointed to an entrance beside the bar that was guarded by a big muscle guy. She said “$40, we go there”. So we went, I paid the guy and we went upstairs to a floor of little hotel rooms. We went into the room. I came out about 4 hours later.
EXIT BAR TO STREET
As I walked down the sidewalk, I came across a guy with a backpack that just repeated names of various drugs over and over again, advertising what he had to offer. I was already flying high, so I opted for a $40 bag of coke and a $40 bag of meth. Right there on the streets of the Revolucion District in Tijuana, dressed nicely, I pulled out a wad of cash to pay the man. Huge mistake.
I bought the goods and proceeded down the sidewalk. The first bar I came to about a block away was guarded by two big dudes. They checked my ID and I went in. I went straight to the bathroom stall. I sat on the toilet and went into my pocket and pulled out the coke. Right when I got the bag open and about to partake, the stall door was kicked in by one of the two guys that guarded the door out front. They both stormed in the stall, and grabbed me up and drug me through the bar to throw me out. Well, I thought that’s all that was happening.
They drug me to the alley and proceeded to beat the crap out of me. Taking my jacket, my watch, my money, my shoes. The only thing they didn’t take was my ID, my keys, my pants, and my t-shirt. While I was down, one of them kicked me with his pointed-toe boot right on my eyebrow. Almost blacking out from the blow, I lay there in the alley in a puddle of water. They grabbed my feet and drug me through the alley on my face. I was limp. Almost lifeless. There was some loud talking and whistling, then a car pulled up. They opened the door and tossed me in the backseat. Spoke some Spanish then slammed the door. The car sped off. I just knew I was dead. No telling where they were taking me to get dismembered, starting with my toenails. I just knew it.
Suddenly, the car stopped, the door opened, and I was yanked out of the car, smashing my head on the concrete. The car sped off. I laid there for a minute, completely out of it and then managed to raise my head, and barely open my eyes. There was a cab speeding away. I was at the border. They had robbed me and paid for my cab ride back to the border with my own cash. All they left me with was my ID (which you had to have to get back across the border) and my keys.
I stumbled across the border, covered in blood. People stood back in horror as I walked into the turnstile area to get into the US. “Do you need a doctor?! Let’s get this guy a doctor!” I aggressively just yelled, “let me across, I’m fine! I live two exits up and my car is right there in that parking lot, I’m fine!” So they let me through the gate.
My little sister at that very moment had been driving all night from Dallas to come live and work with me in San Diego. A straight through drive. I got home, walked in the door and my roommates were freaking out. My head was gashed and I was covered in blood. Literally 2 minutes after walking in the door, there was a knock at the door. It was my sister. “Welcome to California” all covered in blood, I said. She flipped out and drove me straight to the ER for stitches.
What I came to find later blew me away. At the exact moment I was taking a beating from those guys, my mom, states away in Texas, was awoke from a sound sleep, fell out of bed, hit her knees and just started bawling and frantically praying for me and had no idea why. Now we know why.
I parked on the U.S. side and decided just to walk over through the entry gate. There was a sea of taxi cabs, peddlers selling everything from gum to fake Rolexes, and border patrol. I was greeted by a taxi driver, “where to?” he said. “Adelitas”, I replied. And the guy smiled really big. “Ahhhh yes. Adelitas. Very good choice mi amigo.” And at the time I thought it was.
I arrived at the bar, and walked into something that felt like the old west, except all of the cocktail servers were gorgeous women wearing lingerie. There were two-seater booths throughout the whole place. I took a seat and in less than ten seconds I was accompanied by one of the “servers”. We engaged in conversation, she served me beers, and after a few beers, she pointed to an entrance beside the bar that was guarded by a big muscle guy. She said “$40, we go there”. So we went, I paid the guy and we went upstairs to a floor of little hotel rooms. We went into the room. I came out about 4 hours later.
EXIT BAR TO STREET
As I walked down the sidewalk, I came across a guy with a backpack that just repeated names of various drugs over and over again, advertising what he had to offer. I was already flying high, so I opted for a $40 bag of coke and a $40 bag of meth. Right there on the streets of the Revolucion District in Tijuana, dressed nicely, I pulled out a wad of cash to pay the man. Huge mistake.
I bought the goods and proceeded down the sidewalk. The first bar I came to about a block away was guarded by two big dudes. They checked my ID and I went in. I went straight to the bathroom stall. I sat on the toilet and went into my pocket and pulled out the coke. Right when I got the bag open and about to partake, the stall door was kicked in by one of the two guys that guarded the door out front. They both stormed in the stall, and grabbed me up and drug me through the bar to throw me out. Well, I thought that’s all that was happening.
They drug me to the alley and proceeded to beat the crap out of me. Taking my jacket, my watch, my money, my shoes. The only thing they didn’t take was my ID, my keys, my pants, and my t-shirt. While I was down, one of them kicked me with his pointed-toe boot right on my eyebrow. Almost blacking out from the blow, I lay there in the alley in a puddle of water. They grabbed my feet and drug me through the alley on my face. I was limp. Almost lifeless. There was some loud talking and whistling, then a car pulled up. They opened the door and tossed me in the backseat. Spoke some Spanish then slammed the door. The car sped off. I just knew I was dead. No telling where they were taking me to get dismembered, starting with my toenails. I just knew it.
Suddenly, the car stopped, the door opened, and I was yanked out of the car, smashing my head on the concrete. The car sped off. I laid there for a minute, completely out of it and then managed to raise my head, and barely open my eyes. There was a cab speeding away. I was at the border. They had robbed me and paid for my cab ride back to the border with my own cash. All they left me with was my ID (which you had to have to get back across the border) and my keys.
I stumbled across the border, covered in blood. People stood back in horror as I walked into the turnstile area to get into the US. “Do you need a doctor?! Let’s get this guy a doctor!” I aggressively just yelled, “let me across, I’m fine! I live two exits up and my car is right there in that parking lot, I’m fine!” So they let me through the gate.
My little sister at that very moment had been driving all night from Dallas to come live and work with me in San Diego. A straight through drive. I got home, walked in the door and my roommates were freaking out. My head was gashed and I was covered in blood. Literally 2 minutes after walking in the door, there was a knock at the door. It was my sister. “Welcome to California” all covered in blood, I said. She flipped out and drove me straight to the ER for stitches.
What I came to find later blew me away. At the exact moment I was taking a beating from those guys, my mom, states away in Texas, was awoke from a sound sleep, fell out of bed, hit her knees and just started bawling and frantically praying for me and had no idea why. Now we know why.