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For purposes of this short story, a "gringa" is any women over 18 who's been in this country more than a nano-second.
I have had a run of moderately good fortune on South Beach for the last several months, but with a series of odd events, 3 girls with whom I'd developed friendships have all left town for unrelated reasons. I was settling back to normalcy, which means while you can be broadsided by a beautiful woman when you least expect it, it's not something you can count on. I go to no strip clubs here, nor MP's, and only rarely to a dance club, save for a funky club on Washington called Club Deep.
Working until late yesterday, I was zombied out waiting for the Metro Rail to take me from SW Miami to the Beach. I was sitting half awake, when this exotic girl wearing very striking fashion walked past. She sat down near to me and must have caught me (and it) waking up. I noticed she was not American-looking, although she might have been Hawiian. There was something Asian going on and she had longish, wavey brown hair with streaks of blond. She also had a nice body and was tan.
Out of nowhere she started asking me details of using the train/bus system, appearing to be a novice. It's funny how sometimes good-looking women will be so open, but it's certainly not customary. Hot women can sit back and wait to be approached. I still do a fair amount of phone number collecting using the numbers game to get 1 or 2 out of ten to go out with me, but last night I was too tired and easily would have left this girl alone.
We were chatting when the train came, she got on board, I followed, and sat next to her. Turns out she's a fashion designer with big ideas and a 24/7 compulsion to become rich, and she just may. But for now, she was looking for another apartment, as she had a huge "falling out" with a female roommate. Of course I offered that I was planning to go to South America soon and would she like to see my apartment? I almost fell over when she agreed.
While still on the train she was talking on the cell to some business man-designer in New York and continued to be on and off the phone when we got to my apartment. Finally she said she was starved and turned her phone off. We talked about her 11 y.o. (she's 29), as I heated up some pizza. The father apparently got custody and they're in Arizona. No doubt it was a sensitive issue around her workaholic lifestyle and I didn't ask too many questions.
She ate, we talked, I drank, and it was turning out to be fun. On the train, and now on the sofa, and later on the balcony, she liked to look directly at me with serious eyes and attitude. Along with that, she was touching me a lot as she made her points about retail, and her ideas to put out a line of bikinis with real diamonds, to the tune of 50K each. Nobody's done it, and what better way for a tycoon playboy to show his appreciation to his current object of desire?
When a woman touches you as she talks, it's all good. It is a strong signal there's not a physical barrier, at least, and that she's attracted, at best. I'm always careful not to touch back AT ALL. Not once. Remember, women love challenge and mystery.
At one point I offered my shower and a towel. She said she would, but had nothing with her, but perhaps we could get together tomorrow night? Jesus Christ. Let me think about that for a phucking nano-second. She told me to call today, which I did, and of course, she was on the computer, haggling, cutting deals, and god knows what. She's got big dreams, like turning a million she's apparently been promised, into 50K in a year. We made plans for her to come over again - you guessed it - for another dinner, except this time it wouldn't be re-heated pizza (lol).
This is the part of the story that get's to the discussion about gringas, whether or not women are born here. If they've spent one instant on South Beach, being pursued easily, offered invitations to celeb parties, on and on, they're gringas, period. She let it slip out more than once, the celebs that she turned down, so....what do ya think happened? That's correct. I turned her down.
And this is how it went. She wanted to see some of my Brazil scenery photos, I agreed, but they're of course, intermingled with a large arsenal of garotas, smiling, clothed, unclothed, oiled up, etc. I like this for the "phuck you" value, because although I don't turn down P. Diddy for a party, I have enough fun, and don't have to hang on her every word (like, is it "yes" or "no?") By the same token, you're not a "normal" guy when you're with, and taking photos of, so many beautiful women. Those are her words, by the way, which came out later. At the same time, "normal" guys aren't always as advertised, so I could see her interest level remained high. She asked if she could stay over, that she really didn't want to see her roommate.
While I was doing the dishes (I insisted), we talked about several issues, like how it is we met - why we met, to be exact. I told her I thought she liked how I could give a shit about her "spirituality" or zeal to make millions, and that I liked how focussed and goal-oriented she was. She's all about money and me about ectasy, and that we each wished we had a little more of the other. Good phuckin theory, I thought.
Now the dishes were done and she had to (in my estimation) show she wasn't easy and play the gringa game. I had earlier touched briefly on why I go south, but it wasn't until she said she had a boyfriend who lived in Italy, that I felt okay to let her have both barrels. She could have told me at the train dock yesterday that she had a boyfriend, instead of only the Catholic thing. Now, she used the religion thing, coupled with the boyfriend. Bitch. I'm out two dinners and a $20-spot for taxi.
Even though earlier I had talked as though she could stay overnight, now I asked her where she was going to stay? She was a little surprised, said the thing about, "Oh, so that was why you offered" bullshit, that it wasn't a genuine offer, wasn't I a friend, etc. I told her men hate being friends with women, that it was a fate worse than death, and I wanted no part of it, thank you very much. Friends after phucking is one thing, quite seperate from BEFORE.
She asked if I wanted to come to her apartment and go in the jacuzzi, and I said no thanks. She said she's going to invite me Sunday, and I said nothing as she departed.
Years ago I would have hung on and, I think, eventually phucked her, because I believe the Italian boyfriend story is bullshit, and if she didn't like something about me, she would have never touched me, come over, asked to stay over, etc. But I simply don't have patience anymore. If she wants to see me again I'll ask her why if she has a boyfriend and I don't want to be friends? Please explain it. Funny thing is, I don't think I've heard the last of her, expressly because I told her to get the phuck out. She's usually the one used to telling celebs "No thanks". With my relocation to all points south in the near future, I have so little interest in groveling, I can't tell you.
Imagine the nerve of this bitch. That's what happens when you're nice. When she said she's going to invite me "one more time" to her apartment jacuzzi on Sunday, she left the door open to getting back to me, because her ego couldn't take that I was closing the door (literally) so quickly, that I didn't try to seduce her, attaching great value to her snatch. Phuck her. The only way I'll negotiate with her is if she's naked in bed. Then we can talk, and I'll tell her that. She knows from my photos how fine an assortment of treats there is in CR, Colombia and Brasil. She probably, with typical twisted gringa reasoning, figured she didn't want to be like the girls in the photos. Oh well, what can I say. In truth, she's not like the girls in the photos. She's nice but give me a break - we're talking 22 y.o. garotas here. The hottest Sobe has to offer maybe can compete with the 8's and 9's in Brazil.
So there you have it. A gringa who wasn't, but very much was. So what else is new...?
Jazz
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"Don't never trust a woman, till she's dead and deep....One day she'll say she loves you, next day she'll throw you on the street."
"...and if men didn't have this unquenchable desire to have sex with women, then they wouldn't have anything to do with women at all. I certainly wouldn't..."
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I can remember too many gringas were lets get close but no.no,no I didn't mean that & after a while it is no,no,no DON"T STOP!! Women like it about as much as us once they get going but only so many hoops I will jump before it just isn't worth the headache.
