ooops, I meant to have posted this last week.........
As much as I am convinced I should have been born to a millionaire family and lived the life of a hotel heiress much like Paris(ite) Hilton, my upbringings were rather humble growing up in Milwaukee's hispanic ghetto. It's been 10 years now since I left the encalves of Milwaukee's south side and I must admit, I sometimes forget how far I have come. I know it sounds terrible, as I don't think anyone should forget their roots, but after living in some of the various trendy and more pricey neighborhoods of Chicago (Lakeview, Lincoln Park, West Loop) I tend to forget how completely opposite worlds exist in the very heart of the city I call home.
Last Friday I celebrated Fernando's 30th birthday party at a tiny bar on Chicago's south side. That was no big deal. I had been there before a long time ago. However, after the bar closed people suggested going to an after hours joint that I had never been to before, La Cueva. Located in the heart of La Villita, La Cueva has always been sort of an enigma that my various gay Mexican friends have spoken about here and there. For the most part everything they told me sounded like horror stories. Well after 6 years of living in Chicago I decided it was the perfect time to see for myself what the fuss was about. Ironically, everyone who initally wanted to go changed their mind at the last minute and I found myself accompanied by my favorite Cunty Bitch (who is only Mexican by injection but I am not at liberty to discuss his sex life, lol).
As I drove down 26th street looking for my mysterious destination I could not help but feel like Dorothy finding her way to OZ. The only difference is I wasn't told to look for a yellow brick road. I was told to look for scary Mexican tranny prostitutes. That was when I would know I arrived. They didn't lie either. It was hard to miss the sexy and tempting 50 year old trannies who looked like they had grabbed their wives chemo wigs and then looted a Rainbow.
Getting inside was a total fiasco. I was frisked for weapons and the doorman looked at the address on my driver's license and asked if i was lost! LOL. Once inside we were bombarded by 20 waitress-trannies who apparently weren't making enough in tips to be able to afford GOOD plastic surgery and implants. Yikes.
The place was crowded so I had the pleasure of sharing a table the one and only Miss Ketty (if you have ever been to Circuit you know who I am talking about) and Celia Cruz's long lost hermaphodite sibling. Well, Celia didn't shut up the entire time we were there watching the drag show. I guess I can't complain because i most certainly didn't have any desire to talk to the scary clientel or the 400 security guards surrounding every table. Serioulsy, I felt like I was stuck in some twisted Telemundo remake of the "Twilight Zone". LOL
This was all in addition to the bouncer with Alpo breath, the 350lb woman and her midget boyfriend, and the fat man who looked like Selena's father in the bathroom with his dick hanging out of his pants (he wasn't even at the urinal!) Gross!
I couldn't wait to leave and I most definitely will NOT be returning! Perhaps it isn't a good idea to explore the various cultural enclaves of Chicago.