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The Misadventures
of Mark and Tito
The worst Valentine's Day was definitely two years ago when I, as a last resort, paired up with my best friend, Tito Perez, and attended Albert's famous Valentine's Day party. Tito got drunk, left me in the corner, and spent the whole night blabbing away about all the embarrassing things I had ever done. I was humiliated, and swore I would never talk to him again. Although Tito was my best friend in life, he always had a way of making me look bad. But even when Teta, (that's what I call him because of his really developed chest), did make a fool out of the both of us, it was always fun. And so I forgave him on the way home that night. Besides, Tito was just the latest of a lifetime of bad V-Days and my bad luck wasn't his fault. I was adamant about not going out this year, but Tito disagreed. With Valentine's Day 1999 just a couple weeks away, Tito and I met for burgers and fries at the mall to discuss the issue calmly and coolly. "Bitch! What do you mean you don't want to go this year?" Tito asked. "We've been going to this party for three years-everyone will be expecting us." "I just don't want to. Not this year." Tito was right, everyone would be expecting us. You see, Albert's annual Valentine Party isn't for just everyone. Every year, Albert invites all of his ex-novios to get together for a party. Among the many things Tito and I had in common was the fact that we both, at one time, had dated Albert Sanchez. So we were invited. You'd think it would be small party, and that no one would want to go, but everyone does-the music is good, and there's always drama. Of course, Tito and I always stood out at Albert's party. Tito was the cutest in Albert's past, and I had the most education and the best job. More than that, every year, we were the only two who seemed to be employed, guapo, and not on any drugs-prescription or otherwise. "I am not going. I am serious. I am not having another awful Valentine's Day," I told Tito. "Stoopid, cabrona," Tito said looking right at me. "Why can't you just let go of a few bad experiences?" Tito really wanted to go, but I really didn't. I could blame it on the party, or on my bad luck with the holiday, but there was more. I wasn't just fed up with Valentine's Day, I was fed up with relationships and romance. I had fallen in and out of love with Nomar, my Persian ex-boyfriend, and I wasn't willing to risk getting hurt again. I said, "And it's not just that, Teta, it's that love just isn't my thing. I'm not like you, going out with one guy after another, after another, after another..." "Okay, okay," Tito interrupted. "Well, you get my point. I am just swearing off guys, all together." Tito dropped his fries, "Don't tell me you're thinking of playing it straight?" Going back into the closet was the worst thing a joto could do, we figured, and we knew we'd never go back. "Oh please," I answered. "Good, 'cause even your momma would see through that," Tito said. "Tito, it's like this: ever since I broke up with Nomar, I haven't been able to meet anybody. And you know that left me devastated. I don't want to do that again." "He was Arabian, right?" "Persian," I corrected. "Right. Well, mira perra, you were totally depressed for six months, true, and you lost your appetite, stayed in your room, wouldn't go out or talk to anybody except for me-but look what happened: you stopped eating and you lost all that weight. Plus, you've been going to the gym ever since and now look at you-you're a total papi chulo."
"No, more like those Richard Simmons women who just lose all that weight and cry about it-but whatever." After finishing our meal, it was time to shop. So we started at the sports store and looked at the guys until it was obvious we had no intention of buying anything. Then we went on to the pretzel stand. I ordered a couple of small pretzels with everything, and seconds later they were in my hands. Tito held out his hand as if he were waiting for me to give him one of my nice and toasty pretzels. "No girl, these are mine." So he ordered his own, and we continued down the middle of the mall. We toured the local shops, waved at some of our friends, and made a stop at Cecil's Fashions. Cecil's was way on the other end of the mall-and far from the Food Court-so we hardly ever went there. In fact, we would have never gone there if it weren't for Hugo, the super-fine sales associate that Tito had been flirting with for months. I took the last few slurps of my Mickey-Dee's
milkshake and made my way to the clothes racks. "It's definitely you," I replied. "Yeah?" "Yes." "I don't know," Tito said with hesitation. "Loca, it's got your name written all over it," I assured. "Really? Would you buy it?" "Me? No way, it looks too trashy. And look at those colors. God no." Tito gave me a mirada harder than the metal bar in Gloria Estefan's back, and walked to the cash register to keep on Hugo. I kept on my search, flipping through the carousel like it was a rolodex, laying shirts across my chest and pinning pants to my hips, hoping one would be my size-but nothing. Nada. I was about to pull my hermana by her frosted tips and tell her it was time to go, when something caught my attention. I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, like a ratón to a piece of queso, like a junk-food junkie to a box of Twinkies. Maybe it was my depression, perhaps it
was my bad fashion sense, or it could have been my love of a
good bargain-it was most likely a combination of all three that
drove me straight back to the corner of the store where a CLEARANCE!
sign was screaming my name. The sign was hanging over a bin of
reduced-priced boxers and briefs, tossed and disorganized, stamped
with blue and pink tags. I couldn't help it. I riffled through piles of tacky boxers and Euro-trash mini-briefs looking for something comfy enough to sleep in. I needed some underwear, and knowing no one would see my calzones but me, I was willing to take anything that looked soft and comfortable. What I found were a pair of boxers that were white with red hearts, and the words "I BELONG TO" written across the front. The tag said it was "half of a pair," and I thought it was perfect. "Okay, that has GOT to be the tackiest thing I have ever seen," Tito exclaimed. I put it up against my waist to see if they would fit, which only made Tito more angry. "Bitch, don't put those against your body! Look at that-the hearts have little smiley faces in them! You are not taking those..." Before he could finish his sentence, I was ringing up my incomplete pair of boxers at the register. Hugo was slipping them into a bag when Tito pulled up from behind, put one hand on my purchase, and made one last request: "Girl, I'll let you take those, but you're going with me to the party." "Fine," I said and both Tito and I smiled. "Wait," Tito added, looking straight at Hugo. "He'll take two of those candles for me." Valentine's Day rolled around and I was less than excited. I was still a bit upset that I was forced into going, but I did have my boxers, and I figured I would wear them to be in the holiday spirit. I picked up Tito, and we made our way to Albert's pad. "Now, girl," I said. "Kick back on the margaritas, okay?" I was determined not to repeat the past. "What are you talking about?" "I am talking about what happens to you when you've had too much-you make me look like a fool." "Ay, cabrona, relax," Tito said. "I am totally behaving myself tonight-totally." Tito and I walked into the fiesta and quickly melted into the ambiente. We snaked our way through the packed sala, and looked back at the crowd from the dining room. From there, we went our usual ways, melting away into the sea of bronze skin in two opposite forms. Tito, in typical Tito style, threw himself into the fiesta, trading kisses and abrazos. In a moment, he disappeared. My fiesta strategy was more subtle as I kept to the friends I knew and caught up on what had changed since the last party. I inhaled half the chips n' dip as I mingled. Someone put "Bidi Bidi Bom Bom" on the CD player, and one of my best girls, Felipe, started in with his Selena routine. That bitch could do the lavadora better than Whirlpool. After minutes of just a few queens dancing, enough of us joined in to fill the dance floor. True to form, the music was great, and the groove felt perfect as it made its way down my spine. I closed my eyes and danced the entire song. I opened them and saw a set of green eyes looking right into mine. "Hi!" I said, a little embarrassed. The two of us exchanged a few words and then pulled off to the side. He was gorgeous. His green eyes were surrounded by olive skin and bordered by a few thick curls of pure black hair that covered his head. He was tall and built, and I grew more and more nervous as we talked about the party, work, and boyfriends. "Aren't you dating some Arabian guy?" he asked. "Persian, actually. But no, we've been broken up a long time now, I mean, a long time." I wanted to make my point clearly, but I could tell I was over-doing it. "Well good," he replied. "I thought you were too good for him, anyway." "Really?" I had no idea what to say so I just gave him a sonrisa. Across the room, I saw Tito acting as if he must have already had too many margaritas, and he was showing no signs of slowing down. He was laughing and being hit-on left and right, so I figured it was a good time to interrupt. "Cabrona, look at that guy I've been talking to," I said as I discreetly pointed to Jaime. "Hey, he's cute. His name is Jaime, right?" "You know him?" I asked, pulling at Tito's arm "That's Albert's cousin. He was here last year," Tito said with glossy eyes. "Teta, what I wouldn't give to see that boy in just his chones!" "What? Girl, I am going to grant you your wish. Leave it to me, I'll make it happen." Tito's words were slurred, and they shot out of his mouth smelling of pure tequila. I was scared of what Tito would do, especially in his condition. "Cabrona, I swear, don't do anything! I won't forgive you this time, I swear." I was pinching his wrist so hard I could feel his huesos between my fingers. I wanted to give him another warning, but we were separated when Albert came up to us and pulled us apart. "OK, girls, time for a party game." Albert was always planning these party games so we all sat in a circle on the living room floor. The music faded to a low hum and the "Selena" guy, Felipe, put an empty Corona bottle in the middle of all of us. "Truth or Dare," he announced. He spun the bottle and it spun over and over. My eyes tightened and my brow wrinkled every time the bottle passed me. I was afraid it would land on me, but more afraid it would land on Tito-and it did! I mouthed the words, "Don't do it!" but he just winked back at me. I knew he was going to get me in trouble. "Mark," he started, "truth or dare?" I could not believe he was doing this to me. My best friend, hanging me out to dry like this. What had I ever done to that girl? I was definitely not forgiving her this time. In fact, she could find her own way home. "Come on, Mark, truth or dare?" Tito continued. I thought to myself, "Truth or dare? What should I pick? What kind of crazy thing would he make me do? Worse yet, what would he ask me? Would he ask about my ex, Nomar? Or some other embarrassing story about me?" "Dare!" I finally said, wanting to get this over quickly. "Ok, hmmm..." he was thinking long and hard, which scared me. He finally said, "I dare you to...no, I dare you and Jaime Sanchez to..." I was dying. I could feel my corazón
race inside my chest. My stomach plunged to my feet. I was short
of breath. I could feel my life slipping from me, but I wanted
to stay alive long enough to kill Tito. "Oh, no," I thought. "Oh no!" Everyone clapped and whistled at Tito's suggestion. I looked at Jaime and he was surprised, but smiling. I stood up slowly, looking right at Tito the whole time, cursing his name. "Bitch, cabrona, perra," I kept saying over and over again, even as I unbuckled my belt and pulled down my pants. They put me and Jaime back to back, nalga to nalga, and I had to close my eyes to keep my cool. I knew everyone would laugh at us once we were standing there, pantalón-less. The room was quiet-too quiet. I thought to myself, "Why were they so silent? What was going on? Dios mio! I forgot about my underwear! I was wearing those tacky boxers that read 'I BELONG TO' My pelvis was covered in white boxers with red hearts, each with their own smiley face. I shouldn't have bought them, I shouldn't have worn them, and I shouldn't have come to the party. I couldn't open my eyes. I was frozen. I couldn't move." "Hey, did you guys plan that?" a voice came from the audience. "Trampa! Cheaters! Bogus!" everyone was whispering. I opened my eyes to see what they were talking about. Tito's mouth was wide open. I had never seen him speechless. "What?" I mouthed to Tito. He pointed at Jaime, and I turned around. I looked at his face, which was redder than a ripe manzana, and then looked down at his underwear. Jaime's underwear were red with white hearts that each had a smiley face. They were just like mine and were the tackiest underwear I'd ever seen, but right over his crotch, it read "...HIM." Jaime and I could do nothing but laugh. We chuckled and put our pants back on. During the rest of the game, he put his arm around me, and we just sat enjoying the rest of the game-and the rest of the night. By the end of the night, Jaime and I exchanged numbers and even kissed good-bye. As I walked out of the party with Tito, all I could think about was Jaime. Despite Tito trying to embarrass me as always-this time, everything turned out cool. It was about time I had a good Valentine's Day. "Do you forgive me, bitch?" Tito said with a smile on his face that stretched from pierced ear to pierced ear. "I forgive you, cabrona," I replied. "I dedicate everything I put on
paper to my mother, who was the first to tell me I could write,
and to Dr. Ramon Garcia, who was the first to make me believe
it." <<Previous Article<< | >>Next Article>> |