Summer Slumming
Friday morning started with me in a foul mood all the way up to the entrance of my office building. I was walking up the drive, staring ahead, but at nothing in particular... you know, kind of Wistyish, when this guy with a machete caught my eye. Come to think of it, maybe the huge ass machete caught my eye...hmmm. Anyway, I see this Spanish guy (I'm not a complete racist, it's important to the recap) with the machete, and he does this double take look, and says, "Heeey, Laady". Now for some unknown reason, that was the hottest thing ever. It made me say, "Hiii", all breathy and what not. He was totally gorgeous, and he had the best accent. Mmm. So, I go into the office, but not without looking over my shoulder once to confirm he was still looking. He was. Hahahaha...
For the rest of the morning, I sat at my desk watching him work, and watching him watch me work. Damn, we were both some watching folks. I did this until I had errands to run. On the way to the car, homeboy is laying out with his coworkers taking a siesta, or what-have-you. So he calls to me something, and I just answered, "No" without knowing what he had said. I thought "No" was a safer answer to any question than "Yes", until I was corresponding with Dawn and thought, "Wait, what if he asked, 'Do you mind if we gang bang you'..." So no more "No" answers unless I know the question... I proceeded to run errands with every intention on not returning, but the way he was staring was making me all "intrigued".
So what did I do? What any of the characters from Desperate Housewives would do; I returned to do some minor work for my boss. LOL!! I can't even say it with a straight face. On the way to the door, he was pushing out a trash can of leaves, so I threw my lollipop stick in the trash can and said, "Thanks" while laughing. He gave me a look like, "oh no you didn't", so I asked if he wanted water. He did, and I took it out to him, and that's when it happened... "Do joo speak espanish?" NOOOOOOOOO!!! If that were going to happen, I'd rather we had not spoken, and just gotten it on, on pure instinct alone. No, I don't speak Spanish! I never found the need to. I told him to learn English for himself, and walked away, but not before crushing his chances completely. I called, "What's your name over my shoulder, and he replied, "Jose"... no way Jose...
I let him into the office later with his coworker to have a cold drink and a place to rest, but the thrill was gone. He went from dark, mysterious stranger to "the lawn man Jose". Ugh! What's worse is that he was trying to convey to me that I should take classes to learn Spanish for him. Not to be a bitch, but if I'm going to learn to speak Spanish, it will be for a man who's taking me to the south of Spain, or someplace that is equally fantastic. For a machete slinging worker, not so much.
I am as likely to sleep with some random lawn guy as G. W. Bush is to win a spelling contest, but that I even contemplated it started to weigh on me. "Why do I keep daydreaming about this sweaty guy anyway?" ran through my head all day. Then I realized, it was the intense stare. That stare that a foreign guy will give you that makes you feel they are undressing, penetrating, and leaving you with a single stare. It is the language barrier; the gift and the curse all in one. Because spoken communication is a handicap, the only way to convey interest is in the universal language of sex; which is usually consistent around the world (general signs anyway). That coy flirting and getting-to-know-you banter had to be abandoned. Without the use of spoken words, we were reduced to what we are, animals in heat. At least, that's what I felt like. Then again, I live in South Florida. I'm always in heat...
Not~So~Cosmo
For the rest of the morning, I sat at my desk watching him work, and watching him watch me work. Damn, we were both some watching folks. I did this until I had errands to run. On the way to the car, homeboy is laying out with his coworkers taking a siesta, or what-have-you. So he calls to me something, and I just answered, "No" without knowing what he had said. I thought "No" was a safer answer to any question than "Yes", until I was corresponding with Dawn and thought, "Wait, what if he asked, 'Do you mind if we gang bang you'..." So no more "No" answers unless I know the question... I proceeded to run errands with every intention on not returning, but the way he was staring was making me all "intrigued".
So what did I do? What any of the characters from Desperate Housewives would do; I returned to do some minor work for my boss. LOL!! I can't even say it with a straight face. On the way to the door, he was pushing out a trash can of leaves, so I threw my lollipop stick in the trash can and said, "Thanks" while laughing. He gave me a look like, "oh no you didn't", so I asked if he wanted water. He did, and I took it out to him, and that's when it happened... "Do joo speak espanish?" NOOOOOOOOO!!! If that were going to happen, I'd rather we had not spoken, and just gotten it on, on pure instinct alone. No, I don't speak Spanish! I never found the need to. I told him to learn English for himself, and walked away, but not before crushing his chances completely. I called, "What's your name over my shoulder, and he replied, "Jose"... no way Jose...
I let him into the office later with his coworker to have a cold drink and a place to rest, but the thrill was gone. He went from dark, mysterious stranger to "the lawn man Jose". Ugh! What's worse is that he was trying to convey to me that I should take classes to learn Spanish for him. Not to be a bitch, but if I'm going to learn to speak Spanish, it will be for a man who's taking me to the south of Spain, or someplace that is equally fantastic. For a machete slinging worker, not so much.
I am as likely to sleep with some random lawn guy as G. W. Bush is to win a spelling contest, but that I even contemplated it started to weigh on me. "Why do I keep daydreaming about this sweaty guy anyway?" ran through my head all day. Then I realized, it was the intense stare. That stare that a foreign guy will give you that makes you feel they are undressing, penetrating, and leaving you with a single stare. It is the language barrier; the gift and the curse all in one. Because spoken communication is a handicap, the only way to convey interest is in the universal language of sex; which is usually consistent around the world (general signs anyway). That coy flirting and getting-to-know-you banter had to be abandoned. Without the use of spoken words, we were reduced to what we are, animals in heat. At least, that's what I felt like. Then again, I live in South Florida. I'm always in heat...
Not~So~Cosmo
posted by Not So Cosmo @ 4:44 PM
2 Comments:
At 9:41 PM,
Will Work For Shoes said…
Wait a moment before you learn that Spanish for your romantic getaway. I do believe they would be speaking Portugese in the south of Spain. You know I love you, you witsy girl.
And another reason you may be drawn to this sweaty guy is because he is actually working. Hard work is a major turn. Plus all that sweating gives you a reason to bring a cold drink and cool yourself sexy self off with an ice cube.
Later
At 6:35 PM,
Not So Cosmo said…
Oooh, nice insight from both of you. Will Work For Shoes, I am too ditsy to know what language they speak in the south of Spain. One would assume Spanish, but then again, one would assume English is predominantly spoken in the U.S.
As for Agent Smith, you are absolutely right about C. Ronaldo. He would get the green card (a soccer reference) to play on the field all he wanted. Moreso, I probably wouldn't have let it go that far in the sense that I let him annoy me. Mr. Ronaldo would not have been allowed to speak bad english to begin with.
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