I’m Not a Philanthropist

It was about 10:00 p.m. on a Friday night. Gerardo and I decided to foray into a strip club the very last time before I left Mexico for the new chapter of my life. My sweet heart Elaine informed me sad news about two weeks ago: Excess was closed. And also she told me that she was working for Don John’s temporary and asked me to visit her there. It was a gigantic shock for Gerardo as if a boulder smashed on his head. He received the doleful news with sorrowful tears in his eyes, as though he extended condolences to a bereaved. Ergo, he was racking his brain to figure out where we should crash tonight and whined in distress, “Why, man? Why, my friend? Why in the name of God was Excess shut down? How could they possibly take Excess away from the poor Mexican orphan? Excess was my refuge and my life. Excess was not expensive, provided wonderful services, and had a number of beautiful vaginas. Sometimes I really don’t comprehend why such a holy citadel is demolished. Due to this tragedy, right now I really don’t know where we should foray into. I always went to Excess, so I don’t know of any good strip clubs except goddamn expensive one. Don John’s is unreasonably expensive and has second rate vaginas. I’ll refuse to spend my money on awful vaginas; I’m not a philanthropist, you know…. Anyway, do you remember Fernando, who is my business associate? He’ll join our force tonight and told me that he knows about a place where we might be able to have fun. I’m not sure if I can trust that prick, but we have no choice; just follow his lead. I hope to Christ that he won’t disappoint us!”

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