blue eyed blond loves Mexicans, for a reason

Boblop · November 8, 2007

I got off my plane at O`hare international airport at around 7pm on a Wednesday. Chicago`s airport is buzzing

with people day and night so I did not find it unusual to see an almost full small bar, right next to a gift shop where

several people were looking at the post cards and other potential gifts on the shop racks. I felt a bit tired from the

flight and decided to have a drink because facing the stampeed of madness once I hit the bricks outside.

I tugged at my unbuttoned coat and adjusted my tie as I looked inside the small cocktail lounge, and noted that it

was quite full and the bar tender was quite busy. I saw what I thought an empty seat at the very back of the lounge

and I walked over there.

Sure enough, the bar tender was wiping the space where the previous customer had sat. "good evening Sir, he

said to me, as I sat down".

"Hi, I said, you seem to be quite busy".

I ordered a scotch on the rocks and settled down to wait for the drink to be brought to me. That`s when I noticed

her.

A beautiful blue eyed blond was sitting on the stool next to where I had just sat.

I tried to pretend that her presence and beauty had not rattled me by keeping my eyes away from her long crossed

legs, that were practically touching my stool. Her perfume and body scent was inescapable however and I managed

to smile and let her know that I had indeed noticed her.

My tiredness ozzed from my limbs and almost immediately felt like a young stallion ---- which unfortunately I am not.

I am an old man. A happily married one with a lovingly beautiful young lady granddaughter, and a younger grandson.

My daughter is in her thirties and so is my son. Both are professionals, college graduates with degrees. I am old and

I hate it.

But this night, my demons were tempting me like no other time that I could recall. What are my odds, I asked myself

mentally. Zero came the response.

I turned towards her and asked if she needed more leg room, noting that she was trying to do "up and down" movements with her crossed leg. She smiled at me and her ivory white teeth and bright red lips nearly knocked me

off my stool.

"No, that`s fine. I saw your plane arrive. The person I was waiting for never showed up. I have been stood up again,

can you imagine that?" she laughed, throwing her long silky blond hair sparkling against the bright yellow lights in

the cocktail lounge.

I have never felt so helpless in front of people as I felt with this woman. I felt cornered in fact at so close of the

proximity that I found myself so close to her. I noticed that she appeared to have taken an interest in starting a

conversation with me, a total stranger. I have seen many beautful woman in my seventy something years in this

planet, but this one, at this particular time baffled me. I decided to let my demon to go to work and see what was

in this girls mind.

"That`s a, uh, a very err, lovely dress, you are err, wearing", I said to her, extending my hand to introduce myself.

"My name is Sal", I said as she offered her limp lovely hand.

"Well, hi Sal, I am Mercedes", she continued to smile at me.

"Mercedes?, that is Hispanic, isn`t it", I just threw it out there for her.

"Yes, it is, but I am Caucasian, White and free", she laughed out load, and that really startled me.

"I love my name and the Hispanic in it", she moved closer to me and touched my arm.

I concluded right there, that this girl was drunk, and could really hold her booze. She did not look wasted at all.

"You are Mexican, or Hispanic, aren`t you?" she asked very seriously. I hated to disappoint her and almost lied

to her. I wanted to hear her reason for her question, so I decided not to lie.

"No, I am Italian, you know, the Mafia,?" I laughed at her.

Boblop · November 8, 2007