Payback: Guatemalan style

Well look at this. Look who it is minding his own business and going about his life. Look at this. In life, I believe, there are occasions where one must break out of their “mould” to make a statement or, in my case, to have a story to tell. Sometimes it isn’t even about the story. Sometimes, well sometimes, it’s about being the voice for all the little people out there. I had one of those days today.

I went grocery shopping today. You guessed it. I was completely out of flan. For some odd reason, Goya Flan isn’t sold at the Safeway in Mi Linda’s neighborhood. How these people can survive, I don’t know. What I do know is that I saw a special person today. A person who has haunted my nights since I was old enough to say, “So, do you want to go out?” This is a person who has the uncanny ability to find me regardless of where in DC I decide to go.

For a while, I thought he had radar for ridiculously good looking Guatemalans, but then I heard he stalks others (even those who aren’t Guatemalan or good looking). This is a man who interrupts conversations, a man who changes the flow of the “connection”, a man who makes you seem cheap, a man who, I’ll just say it, a man who is my sworn enemy and I hate him.

Who is this? Have you guessed? It’s the DC rose guy. I hate him.

Do hope that he gets force-fed rotten flan and Vegemite by an Argentinean Kiss cover band? Hmmm, now that I think about it, yes. I would, but I wouldn’t want them to physically harm him or anything. Maybe if he got a bit scuffed up while he was being force-fed. That would be ok. Or if some of the makeup got on him, but that’s part of the game. Anyway, yes, I wish him extreme discomfort.

Look DC rose guy, don’t give me that look! I’m soooooo sorry that I don’t want to buy your mierda roses for $5 a pop. Look at these damn roses. The petals are falling off. Why do you have to come with your wicker basket to ask me if I want to buy a rose? The date was going so well and now you make me look like a cheap bastardo. Didn’t you see how my date was touching my leg with hers under the table? Oh yes, I know you saw this. I knooooow you saw this. This is when you pounce. You wait until the date is going so perfectly that I cannot say no. I have to smile and say through a tight lipped fake smile, sure DC rose guy, of course I will buy the cheapest rose in the world from you. Thank you so very much DC rose guy! Thank you so very much!

Oh! And what happens when I decide to fight you? You give my date a look! You raise your eyebrows and tilt your eyes to the upper right hand side while tilting your head ever so slightly like in the 3rd grad picture. I know that f-ing look! It’s the good luck with this cheap bastard look! Then, after I say no, I start to doubt myself. I wonder if she thinks that I’m a cheap bastard. I think about telling her about my disdain towards the DC rose guy, but then I don’t want to risk being the guy who hates the working class man. Hey! I AM the working class. I don’t go around pushing shitty flowers you dirty son of a…. I apologize. Let me calm down.

Ok, so I was at the supermarket and guess who I see? Si, I saw the DC rose guy with a young lady. Like a detective on CSI, I watched as they walked up the bread isle, his hand gently placed at the small of her back. They lovingly discussed whether they should get the wheat bread. All they had was a small, green basket, so I had to act quickly. Should I tackle him into the bread and force hundreds of loaves to crash down on him? Totally. I should, but I won’t. I don’t want to create more work for someone else. You see, I AM the working man.

So, I decide to play his game. I run over to the flower department and pick out an exotic flower bouquet of some kind. Thirty some dollars. Perfecto. Nice and overpriced. They’re still in the bread aisle, but making their way to the register. Run!

Hey! Wow! It’s been such a long time! How are you?

We shake hands and for the hell of it I hug him. His body is tense and confused. I’m Latino and can get away with the hug, but he doesn’t like it.

Man, I haven’t seen you for such a long time! It is such a coincidence to see you here today. I was just having a conversation with Manny about you the other day! He told me the good news. Congratulations!

“Yes, we are very proud. The first in our family to go to university.”

Oh, how perfect.

Wow! I still can’t believe that you two are old enough to have children going to college! That’s great. You’re a lucky man!

The “lucky man” part was said while shaking my finger at him in a teasing way. The entire scene was a bit ridiculous.

When was the last time you told her “thank you” for putting up with me and giving me genius children? Here. Take these, give them to her. Beautiful women should never be without flowers.

I then saw her give him a look. The look that I’ve seen too many times. The look of hope. The look of a desired romance that has been hidden for too long. He knows this look. He causes this look hundreds of times a night. How does it feel you bastard? How does it feel? He smiles, and takes the flowers, hands them to her.

“Thank you my friend. It was great seeing you again.”

Then he gave me a look. I knew this look. I’ve given him this look many times. I then winked and walked away.

How do you like me now?

Mucho Amor,

El Guapo