Posted by Whistler on May 10, 2001 at 17:23:00:
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No ethnic connotations here, but Chinese food has never been a favorite. And, especially in MX, I want to eat Mexican. Most of my life, I’ve been plagued with women that like Chinese food. Now that I have a Mexican GF, it is not any better. The other day, I was sitting in a cab outside favorita’s apartment at the 12 PM agreed time. In the past month, we have met this way because of her 5-year-old. The child and I have become too attached. This became apparent a month ago when she and I were dropping him off at the baby sitter and he wouldn’t leave my arms, even though he loves the sitter and his best friend was there. Nor, would he go to his mother. Finally, she grabbed him from my arms, thrust him into the arms of the sitter, and dragged me out of there by the hand. The crowning blow for her was that I started to side with the child, showing that I was willing to alter our plans of dinner, movie, bath, and bed, for the child. Later that night at dinner, we decided to minimize my contact with the boy, after I admitted that I would miss him almost as much as her, when they return home to central MX. This day as I sat in the cab and waited, I realized that I may never again see much of the boy, a great little guy that had taught me many Spanish words that I otherwise would not know, like ball, throw, catch, hit, toy, and phrases like “lets play”, “read to me”, “lets hide”, and “lets go outside”. Yes, she was absolutely right! I am too attached to him! One love in that house is enough to try to control. As the cab door popped open I was startled because of my deep thought about the boy. But, the present quickly returned as I looked into the face that has captivated me these 14 months. To me, she is a classic Latin beauty, with thick dark brown hair, brown sparkling eyes, perfect skin, beautiful smile, all proudly carried above a size 5 all natural body that turns heads every time we are in public. It is lucky that I have been able to conquer the jealousy thing. As she entered the cab and slid across the seat, she placed a gift-wrapped box on my lap. There was no chance to look at the box, as she slipped her arms around my neck and pressed her soft lips against mine. In 10 seconds I was lost again. It often happens to me when kissing her. I get lost in the kiss. I thought that this was something that only happens to girls. Before her, it never happened to me. Kissing was just a prelude to sex. With her, a kiss is very nice on it’s own merits. “Ahem, ahem, perdon” said the voice from the front seat. He said it shyly. At least a minute had gone by that he had had to endure the smacking noise from the back seat. The three of us sat in the cab for an embarrassed moment. “A donde?” he asked. Before I could speak she announced “Adelitas”, and we drove off. Looking at her I asked “Adelitas?” “Baby shower” she said in English. That explained the gift. This could be interesting. The sky was cloudless and the sun bright as we entered AB. Entering AB at 12:30 PM is like entering a movie theater at 12:30 PM. She walked first through the curtains; I followed close behind, like a hen pecked novio, which I am not. She was walking fast. My eyes had not adjusted. Suddenly, my right foot caught the leg of a barstool that was placed there for a gringo whose eyes hadn’t adjusted. Luckily, the music volume hid the sound of the crashing stool. Still, I felt like a buffoon. She looked back and kept walking, pointing to the area back and to the right of the bar. I stopped to pick up the stool and then walked slowly through a deserted Hottie Central and took the last seat at the end of the bar. It was the perfect place to watch AB chicas play, party, and celebrate among themselves. Favorita came over and took my hand. With the other hand she picked up an empty beer bottle, banged on the bar and yelled to the bartender only 4 feet away “Un Pacifico, por favor!” Damn, these chicas can make some noise when they want attention! I counted 22 chicas taking part in the shower. I knew or recognized most of the chicas. Several of them came over to say “Hola. Como estas?” and then make small talk. But two chicas separately said almost the same thing as they returned to the shower. It is something that still rings in my head and translates to “Treat her well.” I always treat her well. What do they mean? The chicas were dressed about half in street clothes and half in working clothes. The chica of honor sat in a chair and opened gifts one by one. I thought the gifts were on the generous side, but these are chicas with disposable incomes. The chicas laughed, hollered, shouted, and giggled like any group of 20’s something women. Even the chicas that I consider hardened were laughing freely and having a good time. A little after 1:30 on the sidewalk outside AB, she looks into my squinting eyes and asks “Hue quieres hacer?” “Comer” “Yo tambien.” “Cuales” “Chinese” Damn it, why did I ask which? I should have just said lets eat Mexican. But, I am the caballero and she is the beautiful senorita, so off we go to a restaurant that only has Chinese writing on the windows. Inside, the place is clean and is about half full of people, equally divided between Mexicans and Asians. I am the only exception. A cute Asian waitress gives us menus and begins to jabber. I don’t even recognize the language, let alone understand. Then I pick up the words “cocina” and “recomenda” and I assume she is speaking broken Spanish with an Asian accent and giving us the specials of the day. She goes for two long minutes then stops talking and looks at us. Five seconds of silence, and we say “Gracias” at the same time. She walks away. “Entiendes?” I ask. “No, tu?” favorita responds. “No” I say and we both break into a hearty belly laugh like two teenagers after their first joint. It is such a funny situation, sitting in a restaurant, and we both have a language problem. It was one of those rare moments that we were laughing so hard, and people were looking at us, and the harder we tried to stop, the worse it got. Finally, we stopped, tears running down both our cheeks, only to erupt into laughter again 10 seconds later. Back in the cab, we headed to Plaza Rio to see La Mexicana, and she is telling me about her week at work, about the volume, Cinco de Mayo, new chicas, and one pervert. Amazing stories. I wish that I had encouraged her to keep a journal a long time ago. We returned to her apartment after the movie. This is unusual, but since I was not spending the night in TJ, she arranged for the sitter to take the boy rather that staying at the apartment. It was a little before 6 PM. The sitter would return with the boy after 8 PM. Her apartment is not luxurious, but it is always very clean. I sat on the small couch and looked out the window. She brought out a bottle of Don Julio Anejo that she had given me as a gift in the fall, and I asked if I could keep it at her place. She put one of my favorite CD’s on, “Un Sueno”, and said “Practicamos bailar.” I can dance OK, but not to Cumbia. We’ve been trying to get me to the point that I can dance Cumbia in public, but the dance lessons never last very long. After the first song, she excused herself, “bano.” After a couple of minutes I hear water running. She sticks her head around the corner. “Lets have a shower.” And that is a pretty typical day with my amiga. For me, at this time, it is my preferred TJ activity. |
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