Virginia: A little trip con Miguel

“El Guapo. El Guapo, wake up!”

I close my eyes tighter because for some reason I think he’ll go away. He doesn’t. He never does. Porque? I’ll tell you why. Miguel is what they call a bona fide dirty cabron. There he is in all of his unshaven glory to bother me with something that is sure to be a complete waste of my time.

What! Que quieres?

“I’m out of condoms.”

Have you ever stared at someone and realized, as you bit the sides of your mouth, that they will never fully understand anything you say to them? Si? God bless him.

I already gave you all my condoms you dirty, dirty son of a goat. I’m out. No tengo mas. What the hell are you doing over there? You’re like a machine. Go to CVS.

“No way. I’m not going back there anymore. Nunca mas. I can’t afford their prices anymore. I’m tired of this El Guapo. I’m spending almost $200 a month. Why are condoms so expensive? Everywhere I go I see the signs about being safe, and HIV, and unwanted pregnancy, and herpes, and this and that, it’s such a waste. If the government is so worried about all of these things, why don’t they just make it so that condoms are cheaper?”

Son of a bitch, Miguel just pretty much described a government subsidy for condoms. For a split segundo, and please trust me when I say that it was just a fleeting moment, I actually thought about telling Miguel about government subsidies. But you know what? This is just too much for him right now.

Miguel, I think it’s time that I take you to a place that sells condoms at a better price. Miguel, I’m going to introduce you to Costco.

We got on the blue line at McPherson Square and off we went to Pentagon City’s Costco. Miguel was full of questions, but I put my hat over my eyes and tried to grab a quick nap.

Once we got there, Miguel was looked at me in amazement. He took of his hat and said, “That’s a coffin.”

Si, they sell everything here.

“It has a Lady of Guadalupe on it. That’s a Latino coffin. This place sells coffins for Latinos.”

Si, they even sell coffins for Latinos.

“You knew about this place and you never told me?”

Miguel, let’s not worry about that right now. Let’s get you some condoms.

I don’t usually go to Costco very often because 1)It’s located outside of DC in Virginia; 2) I’m afraid of Virginia; 3)Virginians live there; 4)I don’t trust the blue and orange line crowd. They all have beady eyes.

I take him to the condom isle and he immediately grabbed a box in amazement.

“This is my kind! Forty condoms for $9.69? Is this a broma?”

All of a sudden my man does a little salsa dance in the middle of the store while a Virginian mother with beady eyes held her children closer. Then I see Miguel starts to do some kind of calculation with his finger and simultaneously places two boxes at a time in the cart. He stops at 10 boxes, walks away, and then goes back for two more.

Miguel, that’s a lot of condoms. We can come back

He ignores me because he’s upset that I’ve never told him about Costco.

The cash register was interesting. He places all of the boxes in front of the cashier (I show her my membership card) and smiles with content. The cashier laughs along with a couple of other employees as they look over at my amigo’s purchase. The whole scene is comical and even I break a smile while looking away and rubbing my eyes.

“Yes. So what? I fuck a lot.”

You can’t take this chico anywhere…

Mucho Amor,

El Guapo