Mr. Delgado. No. Well, it's the street before the bullring. You have got to make a right-hand turn and you go out for about 1 mile, 2 miles out into the boondocks, the country. It's out in the country, about 2 miles away from the center of the town.
When we arrived in there, the way the agents tried to ask me if he had known anybody, I told them no; the way it looked, he just had been there before, but nobody recognized him. The only things I can remember, like I told these agents, were the two contrasting bartenders, you know, a real good-looking woman, amazon; she must have been at least 6-foot tall; and then there was this fragile-looking fellow behind the bar, one of those funny men, you know, and outside of being a very nice and exclusive club, you know—it wasn't one of these clip joints they had downtown, it was far different from that; it was really nice, a nice place.
Mr. Liebeler. The bartender was a homosexual?
Mr. Delgado. Yes.
Mr. Liebeler. Was that apparent to you?
Mr. Delgado. Oh, yes; it was apparent to us sitting on the bar stool, he looked like a little kitten; and the other bartender was this big girl. She was a good-looking doll. And that's about all.
Nothing eventful happened there. There is where the girls were telling stories, you know. They got these girls, you pick them up there, you know, and they started telling us stories, and he'd laugh just about the same time I laughed, and he understood what they were saying.
Mr. Liebeler. They spoke Spanish?
Mr. Delgado. Right.
Mr. Liebeler. Now, did anything else happen at the Flamingo that you can remember?