I’m walking down the avenue, plodding along to destination “X”. The hot breeze ruffles my hair through the shellac of hairspray and cools the sweat before it runs down my neck. I have a great love for the Caribbean breeze. Suffice it to say that in this hot country, I don’t exactly look my best … no-one does! That healthy shine, that glisten that everyone wears is all too obviously sweat. No-one escapes the sweat when they are outdoors or with no air-conditioning. However, here, it’s normal. NBD, no big deal.
Nothing deters people from the “mating game”. I understand wanting to be close and cuddle at -40 degrees, but in this heat … back off 🙂 In this politically incorrect country, God bless them, they are unafraid to lavish you with compliments. Age difference, that’s irrelevant. Size, that’s irrelevant. Being the opposite sex appears to be all that is important, and even then … Walking down the street doesn’t usually get me wolf whistles, but it does get me the “double take” and a muy linda, hermosa! Every single time I go for a walk, needless to say I walk more often … just for the hell of it! The bold approach you, as though they are starved for fresh meat. Out come the mobile phones and the men trying to take a foto as you walk by. “Gracias, pero no foto por favor!” we tell them as we continue on. They respectfully lower their phones, very nice of them. A lot of “pleeeeases” escape their lips. Sadly, they watch us walk away, though I’m sure a few snap some culo fotos!
A few weeks ago, one of the guys comes flying down the stairs of his business, “who was that you were with?”
“Really? Do I have to tell you?” I say.
“Ooooooo,” a sad sigh escapes. Then he brightens up and asks me out for the next day.
Sheesh! Good to have options I say 😀 Why have one boyfriend when I can have eight? or ten? or …
It amazes me how their logic flows. This is the progression:
Are you married? (No, I have a boyfriend)
You have a boyfriend? (Yes)
Where is your boyfriend? (Working)
So go out with me. (No, I have a boyfriend)
But he’s not here, I am. (Nooooooooooo)
I always say I have a boyfriend, whether true or not. At this point, it gives me time to get to know these men a little better.
Eventually they get to know you and they stop … a little. Until their next opportunity arises.
Friends and acquaintances get in on it as well.
“Gringa! I love how your hair looks today. You’re so pretty.”
Jajaja, “Thanks honey, but this is the same hair you liked yesterday, only, enhanced a little!”
“Siiiiii, you look so young!” he grins at me.
Sold! I like this compliment. Next he proceeds to draw EVERYONE’S attention to my doo vocalizing his opinion. His enthusiasm spreads and the next thing I know is everyone is after my hair. It’s coat of shellac keeps it from getting totally destroyed as it’s being examined. The girls ask what do I do to make it look as it does. Explanations are given and the heads nod in understanding, then the big sighs for wishing they had gringa hair when all I want is … their curls!
“Sweatheart! Come here,” he flags me from across the street a little later.
“Hey what are you doing over there, you’re on the wrong corner,” I holler.
Crossing the street I get engulfed in a big hug. Again with the compliments. Gotta love this country. I have to say, jejeje, he looks pretty damn good too. I wonder how many girlfriends he’s got besides his wife? Now, off for that burger in good company!
Later that night one of the men from an alternate hood comes by. He’s a good guy, comes to visit his mum on the next block.
“Gringa, why haven’t you called me?” he asks.
“Are your fingers broken? Don’t you have my number? Why haven’t you called me?” I returned the question elaborating that if he wants to talk he can call me not the other way around. Put in an effort honey!
And then, it starts all over again, the next day. Same block, or different block, it doesn’t really matter…
Aye mi madre! Time for another walk!
Listen to the palms…
© Loca Gringa and https://locagringa.wordpress.com