Givin' Love to Myspace Homies!

So, Tiger-Juan is a distant memory, as is Omar, and the latest: Mario. I’m just getting this real sense that more I try to date a Hispanic, the worse shit gets. I mean, Omar was the first, and he was the best, except that he didn’t like to contact me and I can’t play games for shit. Then Tiger-Juan who had the quality listed above but he wasn’t very funny and a bit rough around the edges. Next came Mario, who was a fairly straight-up kinda guy but full of himself for no reason that I could discern. Not attractive, not particularly funny or well-read, has a son (baggage), and a bland personality coupled with a strong penchant for talking about himself. And his moustache smelled funny. BLECH! Michele suggested he may have engaged in cunnilingus shortly before kissing me. Quite honestly, admitting to kissing that troll causes me more embarrassment than the notion that I have licked some kitty-by-proxy. Why did you do it? Sighhh. How many freakin’ times can you dodge a guy?!!! I’ve found the max is about 7-8 times, then you have to tell him to get the hell away from you, or just kiss the jerk, and I unwisely chose the latter. Oh, and it gets better.

I’ve been poking around Myspace. WAIT, before the police (child welfare division) is called to action, I should say that it all started w/Bobby Bones, the morning show that I listen to on my way to work. I visit their site every day to get the recap (because the show is 4 hrs and I only listen to about 30 minutes of it each day) and they all have Myspace sites. Weeelllll, you can’t look at their pictures until you make a password and username for yourself. Done and done. Then the more you look at other people’s “space”, the more ideas you get for how cool your space should be. I haven’t actually acted on any of these thoughts, but there have been a few close calls. Oh, OK, I did fill out the little 5 questions at the beginning, but that’s only b/c it said I didn’t know my orientation and that I didn’t want kids. LIES! (I just had to make them true) So the other day I’m trolling, uh-I mean SEARCHING myspace and looking at pics and such when I notice that I’ve gotten a request to be somone’s friend; Mr. Juanderful has asked to be my friend. Yes, the one, the only, the interminable, Juan Deleon (hmmm, another Juan/lion reference...coincidence?) of my days at College Station, or more accurately, the last summer. Yes, when all of my friends were gone and I lived my final semester on campus, Mr. Deleon was a constant companion.

We first met on the benches. I remember that he was just getting out of a 5 year relationship w/his gf. He was facing what all graduating couples face: do we get married or split up? She was for option 1, and he was for option 2. Instead of being a gentleman and explaining his fears/concerns/feelings, he just started treating her like shit so that she’d leave. An all around good guy, no? And I told him such. Little did I know he’s one of those “I like me a challenge” kind of guys who was looking forward to getting his mind off his old girl and trying to tame a willful, stubborn, cocky lass such as myself. This was my first exposure to the dangerous mojo that is: a Hispanic on a mission to woo, and I will tell you my friends, this is some powerful, potent stuff.

He got his foot in the door with his willingness to listen and his understated ability to compliment me. Kids stuff, I say. Then one day I am on the benches, very upset b/c I’m realizing that the end of my final semester at A&M will not yield my diploma. I had to drop the Spanish class I was in, and there was just no way for me to take Spanish III and IV since I was already taking 6 per summer session. I am bummed, and have yet to tell my family. I’m sitting on the Moses benches, nursing a beer (an on-campus no no) and feeling sorry for myself in general. Juan comes over and asks what’s wrong. I don’t feel like talking, so I just tell him I’ve gotten some shitty news and I’d like to be alone w/my thoughts. He says OK and says that he’s going to the Quickie Mart across the street and wants to know if I want something. I thank him but decline. 15 minutes later he comes walking across the quad, arms full of candy, chips, a 40, gum, beef jerky, and a melting ice cream treat streaming down one arm. He says “I didn’t know what would cheer you up, so I got it all!” Uh-huh. This guy was gooooood.

We went out a couple of times. Once he got me drunk and I let him touch it. (I’m talking started drinking pitchers of beer at 10am and got back to my dorm to “watch a movie” at 9pm kind of drunk here), but we didn’t kiss much, that I remember, and I kept telling myself “You know this guy is an asshole, you’re just ‘new’, but when he’s done he’s going to treat you poorly too, b/c that’s how he treated his ex.” If only the heart gave a shit about what the head tells it! No, I didn’t totally fall for this guy, but we did keep in touch after that August. And about 8 months later I was invited to Jiffy’s wedding in Midlothian, which is about 30-40 minutes from Dallas/Ft. Worth, which is where Juan lived. Bottom line: I didn’t go to Jiffy’s wedding, but I did meet Juan’s family and all of his friends.

About a month after that, Juan comes to visit me in Seguin. We spent a nice day in San Antonio, taking a ride on the riverboat, walking around Rivercenter Mall, listening to the Zamfir and their rendition of “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina”, which was surprisingly quite moving. Then came the discussion: Juan wanted to know if I could view him as more than just a friend who was a boy, but a boyfriend. There was the distance factor, among a few other factors, and I did ask for time to think about it, but after half an hour or so I said yes! My first real boyfriend!!! At the tender age of 23! Our "relationship" lasted all of 45 minutes. On the ride home he says that he’s not sure that it was going to work after all. B-HUH!?!?! Subsequent e-mails would unearth his reservations due to my reaction to his “proposal”, or lack thereof, most notably the fact that I wouldn’t/didn’t kiss him while we were on the Riverwalk, thereby creating doubt in his mind as to my viability as a potential girlfriend. Yes, it did hurt. I was not yet a year out of college, back in my hometown, living next to my grandma and feeling more stifled than ever. All of my friends, all of the activities I most enjoyed were all in my past. Juan was one of the most constant friends I had linking me to that time, and losing him really did hurt.

In hindsight I realize he was just fucking with my head and trying to get into my pants. When he realized that asking me to "go steady" wasn't going to yield any hijinks between the sheets anytime soon, he did what anyone mired in a failing plan of action would do: he bluffed and hoped that would get the reaction he wanted. "What?! But I WANT to be your girlfriend! What if I threw in a blowjob and a titty fuck? Then could I still be your long distance girlfriend, PLEEEEASE?!" I guess it went off better in his mind. Since he had met my folks, and had cut his trip short by 2 days (to my embarrassment), I sent him my last e-mail the next weekend. I basically told him that he wasn't a good friend and that I was done.

So, do we forgive and forget? Do we sign up for more punishment? I’ve been thinking about and all of the chances I gave him: when he went AWOL for 3 months, the time I went to CS and told him I was having more than just friendly feelings for him and he basically lobbed a “and this is my problem because….?” kind of response, the time at The Chicken when we were drinking w/his friends and upon a rather witty and cutting remark made by yours truly, that had everyone laughing, he said to me: “If I wanted any shit I would have squeezed your head.” Laughing ceased. I left. I don't talk to people that way, and I expect that favor to be returned.

I was lucky. No major post-Juan regrets due to inappropriate touching (I'm actually satisfied with our one drunken interlude because I can sidestep culpability due to my BAC, and now he KNOWS what he missed out on), and I affirmed what I had known all along. He’s not a good guy. And I would do well to leave him in the past. Knowing all that, it’s still a toss-up as to whether or not I’ll have stories related to further correspondence with him.