Okay…so…I met him at Schmome
Schmeepo. He was working there as a second job just like I was in order
to supplement the old income. He was technically my subordinate for
months but there was just something about him. I was drawn to him. He is
Mexican and swarthy and clean cut but I could see a snippet of a tattoo on his
chest when at times a button was undone.
We must name him and one of my besties calls him my Latin Lovah but
we’ll call him Don Juan for a myriad of reasons.
I would check the schedule to
see if he was my loader for the night. I would try to chat him up
whenever possible and he smelled so fucking good all the time. I was
still dating TBone when he started so it was nothing more than distance
flirting at first and then….then I found his profile on OKCupid.
I thought ok, well
he’s not seeing anyone then and by that time I was not seeing TBone anymore
either so I can sort of hook this up maybe??? Could I? Do I chase men? Not
usually, but let’s see how this shit goes. I had gotten his number under the
guise of needing it for work but one night when I was not the head cashier and
had been sent to garden to cover a break, I texted him.
I told him he needed
to come out so I could smell him. It was about 3 ½ minutes later that he
appeared. We chit chatted and he asked if I was going to smell him and we
leaned toward each other. Goddamn, he smelled so good. He always did. We
were inches from each other as I sniffed his neck and when I glanced up, our
eyes met and it was electric and sexy and close and hot and there were a
million things said without saying anything…and right then the bitch on break
came walking back out. FUCK!! So we popped apart and headed back into the
store talking and grinning.
Later that night, I
was manning self-checkout and got my courage up and I texted….”Whattya say we
go make out in the parking lot after we close this dump?”
I pressed send with
feelings of terror and exhilaration. Then I watched as he came in the store and
went back out of the store, pushing carts and laughing with the lumber
guys. No answer. No eye contact. So me being me, I tried to
lighten the mood with a joke because that’s the sort of idiot I am and texted,
“I have gum.”
Still, just
nothing. Omg, he read that and now he thinks I’m a whore and OMG
I’m technically his boss most nights and holy shit WTF, he doesn’t even know
what to say to me, he won’t look at me, omg, omg, omg, omg. How can I get
out of here without having to talk to him?
Because self-doubt and
panic…that’s my jam. Then I heard him laugh. Quite loudly. I
looked over and he had his phone in his hand and he was texting back. My
phone beeped and I pulled it out of my pocket to read, “I’m parked right next
to you,,,,I’ll see you there.” He puts commas in everything he texts and I
decided it was charming.
We got into my truck
and started laughing at how ridiculous we were.
Then proceeded to do the whole this is my life talk…for about an
hour. It finally got quiet between us
and he said, “When do we get to the kissing part?”
I smiled and pushed
the console up and slid over next to him.
It was sublime. The first kiss
can be awkward but it was warm and soft and perfect. We kissed and talked and kissed until the
windows were fogged up. He told me I was
beautiful, that he’d been watching me, that he had wanted me. He told me all
sorts of romantic, dashing fabulous things. I started getting sleepy and we
realized it was 12:30 in the morning. We
texted each other good night after I got home and I drifted to sleep that night
on a cloud.
We repeated the same sort
of thing several more times over the next 3 weeks. It got very heated but he told me there was no
way he was taking me in that truck, that he wanted all of me and we would do it
right or not at all. We did more talking
and the lay of the land was that he was a year out of a divorce that had left
him struggling after he’d made some poor choices. He lived in a mother in law suite at his
aunt’s house and so there was no going back there for us. I had the girl child at my house and so
unless she was out for the night, he wasn’t spending the night with me.
 |
| The Last Love of Don Juan - Daniel C. Chiriac |
Third week, lo and
behold there was a free night and he could come over…and of course
motherfucking shark week shows up. We
talked it over and he was going to come for dinner and we rented a movie. Just a nice little date and more making
out. I cooked us a casual dinner and did
the fun part. The makeup and hair and
the omg we’re not going anywhere so what do I wear and then he was there. We ate supper, we watched Man of Steel and we
made out on my couch like teenagers. He
whipped off his shirt and I almost fainted… there it was, a strong perfect
chest with a tattoo of his son’s infant footprints. He kissed the breath out of
me and we finally stopped and finished the movie and I sent him home with blue
balls. What’s the lady version of blue balls?? Motherfucking shark week.
It took another week
before he didn’t have his son and I had an empty house. I cooked a meal, I primped and powdered and
lotioned and stockings and lingerie and a little black dress. He showed up smelling and looking so good and
we ate dinner but the tension and longing was thick. We talked and I began to put the dishes in
the sink. He came up behind me and
started kissing my neck. I turned and sank into his arms and we made love. You would think after more than a month of heavy
petting and anticipation it would have been animal and it was…a little, but it
was more sweet and passionate and wonderful than I’d experienced in a long
time. There was feeling and adoration
and he whispered Spanish in my ear. He
could have been telling me directions to the library and I wouldn’t have known
or cared.
The discussions that
followed soon after had snippets of things that told of his intentions for a
relationship and not just messing about.
I had the same feelings and couldn’t believe I was experiencing
them. We talked about our future plans
and he spoke of rebuilding his life and being proud of his choices and I talked
of many things and remember him telling me, “Don’t talk like you’ll have to do
it all alone.” We fell in love over Christmas. I sewed matching PJ’s for him
and his 6 year old. I bought him
presents and made him cookies and we spent every minute that we weren’t working
or busy trying to be together. There was
not as much sex as there was kissing and hugging and talking. It was a real grown up relationship and he
treated me like no one has ever treated me.
He called me his Queen. I felt as
if I were floating on air so much of the time.
The other side of this
coin is that he is 21 years clean and sober and attends meetings and counsels
others. He takes phone calls at all hours to help people and I loved this about
him but this all leads to a lot of self-reflection and all that sensitivity and
caring means that though he had a bit of swagger with everyone else…almost a
bit of a dickhead sometimes, he was conflicted. A lot. He was conflicted when things went badly and
he got behind with his bills. He was
conflicted about whether he was ready for our commitment. He was conflicted
when he was offered a management position. He was conflicted over everything. All the time.
At first, I felt like a wise calming influence to him. I felt useful and
like we were part of a partnership where we were helping each other but I soon
realized he could justify anything and talk himself into the choice he wanted
in the first place most times. I felt like I was useful and part of something
great. I felt like this big, strong man
that no one saw a weak link in needed ME.
I was special enough for him to show his weaknesses and to wise enough
for him to bring his burdens. We talked about a home together and our future.
But…those times that
we talked and I felt like I’d talked him off the ledge and he would text me
later and tell me how grateful he was for me in his life. I clung to those. I clung to the moments that we stole kisses
in parking lots, the times that we finally got my house to ourselves and had
sweet, quiet time together, the times he looked at me and said, “Why are you so
beautiful?”
I would find out soon
enough though that I should have listened to the voice in my head that said, “Can
you spend your whole life supporting and building someone up that needs this
much validation? Of course you can. You love him.” I quieted that bitch. She’s
a smart bitch, though.
