LATINoSUTRA delves into the relationships and sex lives of latinos. This week: Female, Straight, 26 years old, singer and writer.
Day 1
“Ay dios mio”, I thought to myself.“ Look who just walked in?”
I took a double take when he opened up the door to my spa. He looked like an Abercrombie & Fitch model, about 6 feet tall, fair skinned with a bristled beard and mustache. Without hesitation, he walked right up to me, asking for my help to purchase a face cream (As if he needed it).
“Hey I’m back, I told you I’d stop in. Listen, I ran out of my shaving cream and a few other products. I was hoping you could show me your selection?”
“Yeah, sure. Of course! I didn’t think I’d see you so soon though.” I smiled from cheek to cheek, still pleasantly surprised.
I pumped a lotion onto his hands so he could feel the texture, my heart racing as my soft dainty fingers glided against his big, rough ones. And while taking my time, I massaged it into his palms, going around in circular motion. He then lifted my hand as if to kiss it, but it was just to smell the fragrance. Despite my excitement, it was an easy sale.
“Hmm, so you’re a Brooklynite like myself. Don’t you love BK?” I asked as I stood by the registrar, typing in all of his personal information into our clientele data base system.
He leaned his right elbow onto the glass counter.
“Brooklyn’s great but I’m looking to buy an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. Manhattans always fit my personality more.”
“Oh yeah? So the concrete jungle pulls your heart huh? You’d probably look good in one of those I LOVE NY T-shirts.”
He chuckled “How ‘bout you? You hang out in the city at all? Or do you take the train into Brooklyn after your shifts over and call it a day?”
“Ummm…I’m a little like you. At one time I even thought about moving into the city but…Brooklyn’s been changing pretty fast. It’s up and coming ya know. Anyway, I’m really glad you stopped in. Good luck finding a place in the city and don’t be a stranger. Come back again soon.” I handed him his bag and smiled.
He lowered his eyelids to give off a dreamy effect, “What time you get off work?”
Behind him, my boss gave her approval with thumbs WAY UP! And one of the esthetician’s who was leaning against the wall, lifted her leg up in a white nurses skirt and fanned her face saying, “He’s hot”. But I made an excuse as he kept probing questions and gently led him out of the spa. My boss then walked over to smack my arm, “Tu estas loca? Que guapisimo ese hombre! Tu le vas a llamar?"
“Yo no se”, I replied. “I can’t believe he actually came in here though. I met him earlier today at that little Jewish restaurant down the street. The one you told me to go into. Anyway, I was scrambling for change inside of my wallet and I got so frustrated; I ended up emptying out the entire thing. Hay, yo estaba muy avergonzada! I couldn’t even afford a freak’n bagel with cream cheese, so he just gave it to me for free since he’s the manager”.
Rolling my eyes up to the ceiling, I let out a sigh before continuing. “When he walked over to introduce himself, I told him he had the most beautiful hazel eyes I’d ever seen.”
CLICK READ MORE BELOW TO CONTINUE.....
DAY 2
“That guy came back in again yesterday on your day off looking for you” my boss teasingly shared.
“Mentira?” I was shocked.
She continued with a huge smile, “He just wanted me to tell you he said hello”.
DAY 3
He walked by the front doors made of glass and opened one to wave a friendly hello from outside. I returned the wave but turned my back to him so I could continue working. He left.
“Why did you just do that?” My boss asked me.
“Well I don’t wanna give him the wrong impression and lead him on. I waved back nicely; I wasn’t rude. He’s cute and all but I don’t want him thinking I’m gunna call him”.
“See, that’s your problem. That’s why you’re still single, you don’t let anyone in.”
DAY 3
The next day I attended to my daily duties. I had a basket full of products that I neatly placed onto the shelves but when I turned around to take another one, a deliveryman stood at the doorway. My boss and I looked at each other, “Did you order food?” we both asked simultaneously. She read the note on the bag aloud. It said, “Thank you for the wonderful products, enjoy your breakfast”. My heart sank. My boss took out my breakfast with coffee and chocolate chip cookies.
“Wow. Now that white boy is into you! He is really persistent! Auw, mira que chulo. He remembered you liked cream cheese on your bagel. Tienes que darle gracias por la comida pero si tu no lo quieres, me voy a coher ese hombre para mi entonces…Estas loca? What are you waiting for girl?”
At that point I threw on my beige trench coat to walk down the street and properly thank him in person. My boss winked at me before closing the door.
Some of his coworkers giggled as I entered their turf. Somehow I knew that everyone remembered me from the last time I came, broke and starving. One of the waiters told me to give him a few minutes while he looked for him. And there he was, coming out of the bathroom and running his fingers through his hair. We both smiled as we spotted each other from afar. For an entire hour, we sat at a small round table eating lunch and exchanging a pleasant dialogue. He confessed that his weakness were Latina's, so I shared a little bit of my Puerto Rican heritage. Turned out, he was half Irish and half Italian, even though I assumed that he was Jewish. Aside from being Catholic, we had a lot of other things in common, like listening to Jazz music, visiting California and driving down the coast, admiring the creative arts and so forth. Curiously interested, I agreed to a date.
DAY 4
We met at Rockerfeller Center around 8 P.M. I wore black heels, black tight jeans, a red silk blouse with gold hoop earrings and gold bracelets. My hair was in a long ponytail and my make up was flawless, I even gave my nails a French manicure. He arrived casual, in blue jeans, white sneakers and a brown blazer with a striped shirt underneath. (Although he shaved his face but I preferred the grungy boy look) We sat inside of a five star restaurant watching skaters at the ice skating ring by the window.
“Care for some wine?” He asked.
“White”, I replied.
“I love your long hair by the way, and you especially look great tonight,” He complimented me.
“Auw, thanks. But it’s a hair piece you know”.
He looked mortified. “Wow, it looks so natural. I thought it was your real hair”.
I laughed. “That’s the whole point. But don’t worry, I’m not bald underneath, I swear”. A waiter came by with menus and poured us two glasses of Pino.
“You know all the celebrities wear hair pieces too like Jennifer Lopez and Beyonce. Sorry I had to mess up your fantasy of them,” I chuckled.
He sunk back into his chair, adjusting to become more comfortable. “Well, you’re beautiful. But that’s obvious. I’m sure you’ve heard it a thousand times before”.
“Thank you. A compliment is still a compliment though. So…tell me about yourself”.
“What would you like to know?”
“Your dreams, hopes and fears. Tell me your darkest secrets right here on our first date. Why wait?”
A smirk adorned his face. “Don’t you wanna see my good side first?”
“For what? I already know that you’re extremely attractive, charming and funny, not to mention BOLD.
I took a sip from my glass and continued. “That took a lot of guts to ask what time my shift was over in front of my boss. You weren’t even discreet about it. Everyone was looking at us and I could’ve just shot you down, but you took a chance, and I must admit, I like that kind of confidence. But now that it’s over and done with, show me a different side of yourself. Tell me about a bad experience that turned out to be a blessing in disguise”.
“I don’t think you wanna know that yet”
“Oh come on. You can’t be an angel.”
He gave me half of a devilish smile, and then shook his head, “Nah, not tonight.”
“Why not? You’d be surprised. Maybe it’ll make me like you more.”
“Another bottle?”
I shrugged my shoulders and opened my sandy white handkerchief, placing it on top of my lap for dinner, “Sure, why not?”
He began to tell me his life story, beginning all the way from when he was a young boy. He kept his composure up, but at one point, he became teary eyed. As he spoke, his lips moved but I didn’t process every single detail, until the last sentence. He said, “And now I’m on house arrest”. I didn’t process it fully.
“Come again”, I inquired.
“I’m on house arrest”, he repeated.
SAME NIGHT, STILL ON DAY 4
11:10 PM
He hailed down several taxis but they all passed.
“Wait a second, why am I doing this? You’re a sexy woman. I bet if you stick your leg out all these yellow cabs will stop and, you might even cause an accident”, he told me.
“Very cute” I responded.
Eventually we got inside a cab and rushed to catch the taping of a prestigious late night talk show held in NYC. As I sat in the back seat, I was both intrigued and disappointed at the previous news I learned about my dream guy. “Too good to be true”, I thought to myself. We hopped out of the car and ran into the building, stopping at security to get name tags. It had always seemed so much bigger on TV but the station was tiny. By that time I was so buzzed from drinking two bottles of wine that I wobbled over to my seat, leaning against him for stability. We laughed at a few celebrities imitating other celebrities, and had more great conversation. Afterwards, we ate steak at an exclusive twenty-four hour restaurant. He pulled my chair out for me to sit, gave me his blazer when I was chilly and even ordered a grand course meal to remember. How could a man with such good manners be on house arrest? I felt like I was dining with a younger, sexier version of the God Father, like he was an angel with a dirty, guilty face, a John Dillon from the movie Public Enemies. But his crime wasn’t nearly as severe. There was no murder involved or bank robbery held at gunpoint. He was simply a drug dealer, for the least harmful of them all, marijuana. But still, he just didn’t look the type. (Now I know. Who does?)
“Novia? He called me his girlfriend and he’s rubbing my feet? This guy is smooth”, I thought.
He followed me up the steps to my place and leaned over to steal a kiss, but when I turned away, he growled seductively into my ear, “Maybe next time you’ll invite me into your apartment”.
I shut the door behind myself and received a text message shortly after saying, “Thank you for the wonderful evening, Y muchos besitos mamasita.” How cute; he wrote something in my language.
DAY 5
The following day I googled his name on the Internet to see if he had a facebook page that I could request him on. Instead, what I found was an article on his $1 Million dollar bail for his high profile case that involved other anonymous gamblers related to the mafia. He earned a hundred cool points for being honest and upfront, but what was I supposed to do with this? Be understanding, give him a chance and appreciate that at least he had no baby mama drama? He was single, in his mid thirties and had learned a valuable lesson. But did he really? I took a chance and decided to see him again. After all, who doesn’t like a bad boy?
DAY 6
My boss wanted all the juicy details from our first date. So I told her, “You know how they say to be careful what you ask for because you just might get it? Well, tu quierias ese hombre, ahora tu lo puedes cojer.”
“Why? Que paso mami?” My boss asked.
I told her everything. And her words of wisdom were, “Honey, every man has baggage. Now you know what his is. If you really like him, don’t hold back your true feelings but…PROCEED WITH CAUTION”.
DAY 7
10:22 PM
I only listened to half her advice; I didn’t hold back. He invited me to his mother’s house (where he was living) and I went with my own bottle of wine to help make more sangria for his late night barbeque. A few of his friends came and left until the two of us were left alone amongst a small camp fire burning behind us, a boom box playing a mix of Lionel Richie, Sade and Color Me Bad (The Best of The 90’s) and the stars above. At the patio he leaned over and kissed my lips. Instantly I felt intoxicated. My fingers passed through his hair, and he embraced me inside of his arms, his breathing mixing with mine so closely. I felt like I had an innocent high school crush again; it felt so care free even though it might’ve been wrong, and just like a foolish teenage girl I kept thinking his mother would catch us in the act. But I was already in my late twenties. What in the world was I doing with this guy? My boss’s voice kept replaying in my head, “Don’t hold your feelings back”.
“You look so sexy with your natural hair out. Oh my god, you’re so fuck’n hot I can’t even fuck’n look at you right now,” he said aloud, attacking me feverishly.
He pushed his head into my chest, licking my décolleté and slowly reaching for my breasts. I didn’t resist. In fact, I opened my legs (although I had on tight blue jeans) so he could fall completely into me. It felt so good that I didn’t even care what would happen next.
- BANG!
The backyard door swung open. We both flinched. But it was just the wind. Or was it, la mama? No one was there.
“Are you sure that wasn’t anyone barging in?” I asked.
“Nope”.
Next door, a few girls walked onto their patio and turned on their backyard light. They had on skimpy dresses and stilettos.
“Hey! I didn’t know there was a party going on! How come you didn’t invite me”!
I couldn’t believe he just said that and acted as if I was invisible. Did I have the right to feel jealous or think that was rude of him? He was flirting with those girls openly in front of my face just when we were becoming intimate. One of the girls shouted back.
“Hola David. Como estas mi amor?
“Muy bien. Estoy aqui con mi amiga. Quieres fumar?
Astounding! Not only was this guy talking in Spanish, but he even asked her if she wanted to smoke weed while I was there. And their body language seemed a little too friendly, like they were already too familiar with it. Then another girl leaned over the fence, her long brown hair sweeping over her neck.
“Hey David. Who’s your friend? She’s very beautiful. Can you introduce us?”
“Of course, it’ll be my pleasure to introduce all you girls.”
He pleasantly looked at me and said, “See those 3 girls up there, the blonde is Yvette. The other two brunettes…uh, that’s Salina and I forgot the other girls name, but it’ll come back to me.”
“Hi” I said into the thin air, barely making eye contact with any of them.
“Y tu? Como se llama?” asked the first brunette that referred to David as ‘mi amor’.
“Soy Lisa”, I replied, with my blouse loosely opened revealing my bra. My black eyeliner dripped from my eyes and my lipstick smeared across my cheeks from the making out I’d done earlier. I’d look like I just had aggressive sex even though we were rudely interrupted.
“Lisa, wanna go next door for a bit?” David asked while he rolled up a blunt on the patio table.
“I have to go David. It’s late and I have work in the morning.”
“Trabaja? How much for the night? Mira, una mujer que es tan bonita como tu necesita cojer mucho dinero y mucho carino de tu novio”.
It was Salina. She had managed to walk into David’s backyard as the harsh wind swiftly blew the door shut behind her. And since the dirt on the ground was soft, her heels didn’t make a sound. It was like she floated over, her long brown hair flowing in the midnight summer breeze. She told me, “The other brunette, ella es mi hermana Claudia. Do you think she’s pretty? If you do, I’ll tell her to come over. We’ll even pay you a little something, or give you drinks. Cualquiera de estas para ti.”
“I really have to go. It’s just too late to mingle right now.”
I tied my blouse back up, pulled my hair back in a bun and grabbed my purse to leave but Salina blocked me, smiling at me like a vampress wanting to suck my blood.
“How long you’ve known David, Lisa?”
“What does that have to do with anything? I’m out.”
“Because I’ve known him a very long time, and I know what makes him happy. Do you know what makes him happy? It’s Latin women.”
David came behind me and grabbed my waste, pressing his body against my backside and I could feel his stiffness through his jeans since he held me so closely. I separated his fingers to loosen his grip. He raised his voice a little, “Oh come on Lisa. Look, you don’t have to go, just stay and I’ll pay for your cab in the morning. Stay open minded.”
I left his backyard and called a cab service on my cell phone. It was almost 3 in the morning and I was frustrated from my spontaneous evening, and the fact that I had met yet another flirtatious playa, who was still living at home in his mamma’s house and still smoking weed, made me feel as if not only did I make poor choices in men, but I still had to wait yet again for the right guy to come along. New York City. Who didn’t love it? But who loved you back? Such a restless city possessed by so many restless spirits.
DAY 8
I clocked in for my shift at 10:30 in the morning singing, “A boy like that, wants one thing only, and when he’s done, he’ll leave you lonely”.
My boss confusingly laughed, “What the hell are you singing?”
“West Side Story. The part when Anita starts singing to Maria trying to convince her to stay away from that white boy Tony”.
“What happened now?”
‘It’s just not worth repeating, or reliving the situation. But to make a long story short, our dream boy down the street is heartless”.
“Hey, you know what I always meant to ask you? How was that guy able to take you out to dinner if he’s on house arrest?”
“Because as long as he’s either close to home or close to his job, they pick up the signal from his ankle bracelet. He just can’t wander off too far from where the radar picks up. On a date, he’ll just say he was working an over night shift.”
God bless my boss’s lighthearted sense of humor. “Pobrecita. You’ve always attracted the most eccentric guys.”
“Tell me about it. But you’re the one who thought he was such a great catch. I knew his ego was a little too dangerous to be the settling down type….although, he was one fine piece of ass.”
“Perdoname. Que dijiste? Yo no soy la unica persona who thought he was a great catch, you saw something there too”.
“Well, I liked how he pursued me. Him having a decent job, being intellectual, smart and funny, I thought I might’ve had something, but he’s a bad boy through and through, who has a weakness for Latina’s. Hmm…But you know what? It’s too bad it had to end that way, cause he may have had quantity with those girls, but I am what you call a quality woman. And that’s the difference between other ladies and myself.”
“Of course Lisa. That’s why you almost fucked him in his mamma’s house! Some quality Latina you are! Hahaha”.
….THE SAGA CONTINUES
By Jasmine Clemente
0 comments:
Post a Comment