It was snowing in the Chicago airport during my connecting flight back from Columbus, Ohio. Snowing in fucking April. That’s the title of a math rock song I wrote in college.
Here it is. It’s one of my oldest YouTube videos. 14 years ago. Shit.
In the airport I was thinking over and over: “I need to quit this job. I need to quit this job. This job is fucking abuse. I need to quit this job.”
For what they were paying me. Not worth it. $18 an hour. Almost minimum wage. For a demanding job. And I provided them with over 40,000 quality pictures of their dancers (clients) every weekend.
It reminded me why I quit working for agencies. It reminded me of the existence of corporate greed.
I asked for a raise. It was a $7 so almost a 50% raise. When I applied for the job they told me $17-25 depending on experience. I wanted to prove that I had the experience and that I can provide excellent work and that I had work ethic. I attended every single meeting. Took every single call. Did every thing they asked for.
They give 0 fucks.
They want to give you prizes like “oh now you are a part of the family” and “we will give you a raise next season.”
There was most likely no next season for me. I spoke to people that were on their second season. And they got a $2 raise. Fuck that shit.
It was $25 an hour from then on forward and $30 an hour if they wanted me for next year. He replied with “that’s not something we can entertain.” They rather hire people that don’t know how to use cameras, train them with basic shit, and then stress the whole year because they didn’t do a good job or because they quit halfway through because of the low pay.
I don’t get it.
Just hire professionals, pay them well, and don’t stress.
But to each their own. KARma will get them. Fuck their karma.
They were so great at roping you in to the job. “You will travel,” they said. “You will meet wonderful people,” they said. “There’s a chance we take you to Australia,” and more.
They weren’t lying. They were just dishonest.
Traveling sucked. Red-eye flights often. Or flights that took the whole day. Some cities were okay. Atlanta was my favorite. Columbus, Ohio and Spartanburg, SC I enjoyed and I wish I got to see them more. Richmond, Kentucky was sad, pass on that, could go for bourbon tours in that state. And Warren, Ohio. Fuck that place. That’s one I never want to go back to. Ever.
I also did Fallbrook, California. But that’s next door.
And the travel. Oh. Does it sound nice?
It wasn’t.
Directly from the airport to the hotel to try to nap for a couple of hours. Then brutal work non-stop until very late. By the time you are out of work you are just destroyed and bars are closing down. Barely had time to fit a beer or two here and there. Then slept for less than 5 hours to be at work and work roughly from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m. or later. Back to the hotel. All work. No sleep. And travel.
Didn’t get to see shit.
Nice knowing you airports. Nice knowing you hotels. Thanks for the little memories and a brutal job.
My hand still hurts from shooting so much. My right hand is swollen from just sitting there for over 15 hours taking pictures. It’s not easy to hold the camera and hit the shutter for that many hours. Of the exact same thing. Shoulder pain. Back pain. Eye strain. It’s painful.
Fuck some songs.
Fuck some dances.
The whole time I was shooting I just kept thinking “but you are making money.”
But was I? I was making the boss money. A shit ton of money. I wasn’t making me money. I was getting abused. Fuck unjust capitalism. Even at $25 an hour they still make shit ton of money and I’m still getting fucked. But they want to not only fuck you, but fuck you hard.
I did meet lovely people. Some more than others. But there were some lovely people in the job. And you are all in it together. The exhaustion. The pain. The torture of just seeing little girls dance over and over for 30 hours. All of them were getting paid more than me. The photographer and videographer, an arguably harder job, making way less money.
I’ll miss some people.
I’ll miss the travel.
I like going to buttfuck nowhere in America and pick their minds. Gun control issue is bigger than I thought. It is fucking insane to me. It’s completely an American problem and they still don’t see it as such. People be packing fucking everywhere. So many signs of “don’t carry your gun inside.” I’ve never had the desire to carry a gun everywhere. If someone wants to kill me, then so be it. Just make it quick. I don’t want to live with the paranoia and distrust in all fellow men at all times.
You do you though.
I did a bachelor party tour the week before going to Columbus. It went great. The TikTok has over 100k views. People love to tell you what to do in Tijuana even though I’ve been doing tours for over 10 years now.
I’m going to push my tours.
Fuck that job.
I can make easy money every weekend if I take my tours seriously. I was going to do more tours before the pandemic hit. That’s why I wrote the book. To do more tours and make them more expensive. Years later, I will carry on with the plan.
I have another bachelor tour in mid-May. I plan to have more private tours and more brewery and tacos tours. Those will be every Saturday. I’ll be working on advertising that shit and I’m sure I’ll be working every Saturday taking people around Tijuana.
Easy money.
Not work for the man money.
I can write a lot.
The job, despite it all, taught me that I have discipline if I want to. And I have ambition for the first time in my life. I will write a lot. Just like I’m doing right now except actual articles for other people that will pay me. The Reader. The Reader always accepts my articles and I have several in mind. It will be cake. And it will be money.
And I can also do photoshoots. And sell prints.
Back to all the shit that I was doing before. But this time taking it seriously. And focusing on the correct projects instead of being all over the place. Though all I just said sounds like a shit ton…
The tour last week was fantastic. The guys were awesome. And like always, I became just another friend in a bachelor party. I have an ability to do that. To replicate energy. The energy of a bachelor party is draining but I’m getting paid for it and at the end is fun.
We drank a lot.
We didn’t eat that much.
We saw some strippers.
I actually wrote it in a document so I didn’t forget the experience. After 4 years of not going to the strip clubs, I broke my streak. Here’s that text:
I haven’t been in Zona Norte bars in 4+ years (before the pandemic). I had a bachelor party tour, there was no plan to go to Zona Norte (to avoid it was preferred). 7 guys in their 30s, college buddies. I walked them through Zona just to check it out and I decided on Chicago (I knew I would lose em in Hong Kong).
Chicago was like walking into a nasty bad porn. They gave us tequila at the entrance. One of the jaladores (people that shout to get inside) from the street was there trying to command my party bringing the girls and taking their money. I paid him for the bucket of beer gave him 100 pesos and told him to fuck off.
There was a chick in a hot tub just fucking herself with a dildo (she was cute but thick, not for me).
The chica I picked, she looked like Pocahontas with tattoos wearing a small green dress that showed everything. The chick that I got for the bachelor was NASTY. But when we were leaving she said “todos estan bien guapos les doy un super descuento.”
*Why did you get him an ugly chick?*
I got him MY CHICK cuz she was my favorita and I asked the best man if he would like her, he said yes. I get bachelors two chicks while they are in the bathroom for a surprise. I always ask for a friend that the chica gets along with for some chemistry. She said the one on stage (she was not hot). So once the chick on stage was done dancing, I made her climb down and get on top of the bachelor. And I brought the cute chick with me and put him on top as well. But NASTY chick wanted bachelor for herself. Bachelor was forced to touch her pussy. He hated it. Said it was all sweaty and gross. But that fake tits and ass were fun. My chica wasn’t grinding on the dude so I just grabbed her and have her grind on me.
And behind me was the chick just fucking a huge dildo, then sucking on it. Private show for a guy but we could see it all. The bar had a dude fingering a hot chick. There were probably 25 other girls there just sitting doing nothing, none of them very hot.
After that we carried on partying in Tijuana from craft beer place to craft beer place. By 9 pm there was talk about going back to Zona Norte, but all the boys engaged or married and being good went back to the border.
And that’s a Tijuana Adventure. Another one for the books. I don’t know how many more to come. Bachelor tours kill me a bit.
Here it is in TikTok form:
I get recognized from TikTok now. I just met a dude yesterday and he said “yeah, I followed you, I like what you do with TikTok.”
Fuck me. I’m going to be TikTok famous. There’s money in it. So fuck yeah. And free food. And free beer.
That will be my life.
Fuck that other job. But thanks so much for teaching me my value so I can say fuck off job.
And!!!
I’ll be doing an EP with my band soon. I talked to them and they are in. There is no good recordings of Donkichow. Met a dude with a studio. I might open a studio nearby. And I felt like doing an EP.
I have a lot of work ahead of me.
Like a shit ton of work.
And this post needs a picture.
Oh yeah. I also did some work for the Reader. That cover story comes out next week.
Support me on Patreon (and get goodies!)
Follow me on Instagram and book me for a photoshoot!
Follow me on TikTok just because it’s the thing we do in the future.
Book a Tijuana tour with Tijuana Adventure!
Read all my articles on the Reader.
A picture I found from February because this post needs a picture and that’s the only reason why I’m posting it.
Matingas 
One response to “Mid-April 2023: KARma Quit my Job – Bachelor Party Tours – Zona Norte for the First Time in 4 Years”
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