These goddamn pendejos from Tucson have taken body shaming to a whole fucking new level.

This time we were renting a few days with the 1% in the LJBTC community.  Fuck Disneyland, the LJBTC is the happiest place on earth.

All the men are tall, all the women are handsome and all the children’s portfolios are at least seven figures.

I was happy there for a while too.

But on the third day, the sun rose again. I was covered in my white fishing hat because I like my ears. Without those stupid ass dumbo flaps, I get black spots that start to spontaneously bleed.

I don’t want to end up looking like fire Marshall Bill.

By 3 PM I was off the tennis court. Sitting in the shade drinking a beer. At 5 PM it happened.

Condo walked off the beach and right up into my pasty face.

“Why don’t you go out in the sun now,” he said. “It’s barely shining”.

“I am not going out there.” I said. “I’ve hit my limit.”

I wore that stupid hat all day, but I could still feel the burn on my forehead. My nose was raw to the touch. My lips were just on the edge of blistering.

And here’s this big fucking fake Mexican with his dark skin and his hairy arms lording all his pigment over me.

I say Condo is a fake Mexican because he can’t speak a word of Spanish. He sounds like a trucker from Indiana.

The only hole in my fake- Mexican-conspiracy theory is Condo has that bullshit arrogance of being raised a Catholic.

It’s the subconscious confidence of the confessional box. Where you can act just like a little bit of an asshole and know that Father Kino will forgive you anyway.

I believe 9 first friday masses in a row and 100 Hail Mary’s will get you into heaven even if you shoot a man in the middle of 5th Avenue.

“Go out in the sun, you pussy,” Condo said just loud enough for the family with 4 small, innocent children to hear.

“You know what?” Condo said ever louder than before while pointing at me with a little crooked index finger. “You are a Sun Pussy.”

And there’s the full body shame. That’s right, an outright attack on the pigment impaired in front of god and a little family of four.

I looked over Condo’s shoulder and that whole family refused to make eye contact with me. They were not aghast at the language. They were sharing my shame the way people won’t look in the face of a stray dog or a homeless man.

Condo’s voice rose again as he reached in the cooler for another beer.

“You’re a giant Sun Pussy.”

I had no come back. It’s obvious, and it’s true.

What am I going to do? Challenge him to a contest to see who can absorb the most vitamin D?

These Pendejos are competitive. But not vitamin D competitive.

Fortunately, these Pendejos are also drunks. By 6 pm only the sober Gibson could even remember this shame.

“Sun Pussy,” Gibson giggled like Brevis and Butthead — about an hour later. “That was funny.”

And yes, yes it was…