Punch in the stomach

“Hey, man! What’s up?”

It is early and I’m tired. I find myself watching the flashing white man without reacting in my usual way. The cold makes me more tired and for a moment, I forget that I’m supposed to blink.

“From the other night. The Super Diamond show. We met your friend.”

En serio? It is too early for me to hate Miguel. I know that he has once again made my life a little too interesting for my taste. Monday mornings are not meant to be eventful. Monday mornings are meant to pass by until the coffee kicks in. El Guapo does not like to speak on Monday mornings.

“Yeah man, some show. Good times afterwards too.”

This man with the too blue shirt was balding. Bueno, it seems like it was his decision to keep the quarter sized clump of hair on the center of his forehead. The rest of his hair hadn’t received the notice because it was no more. But, the quarter-sized piece of hair held on. It wasn’t ready to go.

“You should have come man. It was fun.”

The look on the man’s face… I hated myself a bit at that moment for allowing my friend to make this man’s face move in such a fashion. His face made the expression of someone who had lost his soul. He would make eye contact for a fleeting moment before speaking, while staring at an unknown spot on the pavement.

Threesomes. I have understood the novelty of the act, but have never partaken. Not once. Nunca. Never. Why not? Because I am Guatemalan and do not share.

But El Guapo, two women at once? Come on. Do you know how amazing that would be?

No. I have no idea and I will never know. The threesome is the invention the French. A true lover does not wish to take his attention away from his partner or wish to share his partner with another. Me? I do not share.

Do I not share because I fear the effect that mi Guatemalan love would have on two women at once? Bueno, I have thought of this, but no. I do not share. Ever. Because when you share the love, it makes someone look like this man.

I had no words for him. No words of mine would take away the feeling of getting punched in the stomach repeatedly. I nodded and thought about the anonymous commenter making a crack at my perhaps giving him a $20 bill. No. Not today. Money isn’t going to make this guy, this chap feel any better.

When another man is with your woman, any woman in your life, even one of your past, it changes the part of you that cares. I can do nothing for this man who was only trying to make his woman love him.

I can do nothing for him. Well, I could always punch Miguel in the stomach.

Mucho Amor,

El Guapo