Dear Jesus

Dear Jesus:

I’m sorry that I haven’t been to church as often as mi madre would like me to go and trust me when I say that I really appreciate your taking one for the team with the whole cross thing and dying for all of our sins. Seriously, that was increible. If you were here right now, I’d give you a piece of my flan. No, I’d give you the entire thing. I have more in the fridge, don’t you worry.

I wanted to ask you not to take the fact that I only seem to call out your name when I’m in some sort of a bind, personally. Really, the way that you get me out of trouble is increible. I know that you’re looking out for a fellow Guatemalan and all, but I just wanted to say that I am very grateful.

At this time, I really have no complaints about life, so I’m not coming to you today with a grievance of any kind, but more of a question. My question is regarding women. I don’t understand them. I never have. I’ve been around them for my entire life and I still haven’t a clue what’s going on in their heads.

The other day this woman with a short skirt walked by me while I was with mi Linda. Now, I’m a deeply spiritual person who appreciates all that you have made in this world. I felt it was my duty to inspect your creation. Now, from past experience I didn’t just turn my head and look at her walk by. I did, however, move my eyeballs to their extreme limits as she passed me. Oh by the way, the little blonde number on Wisconsin Avenue on Tuesday afternoon with the brown mini skirt? Wow. Excellent job. Seriously. You outdid yourself on that one.

So I look over and make eye contact with mi Linda. She held her breath and continued on. She acted like she didn’t see me look, but I KNEW that she saw me. I should have made a comment then and there, but I erroneously thought that she’d forget about it. Women are like elephants in that they don't forget, but I for some reason thought this would be different. She didn’t say anything at all for the rest of the day and I thought I was in the clear.

Tonight, out of the blue sky she says, “El Guapo, do you remember that blonde with the brown mini skirt the other day in Georgetown?”

The thoughts ran through mi head about how to respond. Actually, I may have even asked for your help, but I don’t remember. Anyway, OF COURSE, I remembered her. I had several conversations regarding that skirt with several of mi amigos since then. I may have even sent a text message to a friend of mine working at a bar to come outside to take a look. Anyway, I remembered her (again, great job with that one).

I may have accidentally smiled in a dreamy way when I said “Yes” to her question, but is that wrong?

Mi Linda definitely thought that it was wrong because she said some things to me in Portuguese while flailing her arms about. Yes, she looked very cute while she did this and the language is beautiful (not like Spanish, but still), but I think she may have been angry. I should really learn Portuguese…

How am I supposed to answer these questions? I always get caught in these situations and want to know the proper way to handle a woman’s questions. I personally would never wander, but my eyes, my eyes Jesus, they have a mind of their own.

So, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Again, thanks for pupusas, for flan, for dying for my sins etc. Any help with trying to understand women would be an incredible help. I don’t enjoy sleeping on the couch with her cats.

Mucho Amor,

El Guapo