Referrals , My Friend?

A Peruvian friend of mine swore his sister would do the trick for me in getting me to meet some nice Latinas. Yeah, she introduced me to some alright – one was seeking a green card, the other was about to be deported, one was being fitted for new lower and uppers at the dentist, another was on a tummy tucking regimen, and when another giggled she made sounds that would put a rhino to shame. Yeah, they were all nice people. But I was looking for both nice and sexy.

Directions, Please!

I’m constantly encountering strange women that fascinate me. Story of my life – beautiful woman walks in front of me in subway car. I stand in awe. She gazes in my direction, makes eye contact, even asks directions. My knees buckle, I start to stammer, the directions won’t come out. Beautiful woman moves on to gray haired older guy horizontally bent over newspaper. He gives directions and even exits train with her to walk her to her address. I exit train, walk home by myself. Realize I got off at wrong stop. Once again I lose possible encounter with exotic stranger and miss stop to boot.

Nothing To Repent For?

In my own case, I often find myself regrettably, after a night of clubbing, ending up in church the next day with no sins on my record from the previous night for which to repent. And when I look behind all I see are a couple of ladies fixing their wigs, spitting gum, rubbing Bengay on their arms, and showing the marvels of Polident as they wink at me.

Chivalry Will Get You Nowhere!

A man has to be aware these days of strange vixens who wink and smile on a rainy day…no matter how lonely he might be here in NYC seeking a friend. I once took off my recently purchased Ralph Lauren overcoat and laid it on the street for the fair damsel I had never seen before but who was sultry looking and kept winking at me on a snowy, rainy winter evening years ago. She appeared to be distressed by the puddles all around near the traffic lights.

Not only did she take up my gallant gesture, she also took up my expensive overcoat, jumped into a cab and sped away leaving me shivering and ducking for shelter in a vain attempt to get some warmth. I ended up that night in a Mexican bar drinking tequila and talking to a drunk named Moe who kept telling me through hiccups and belches of the many lost overcoats he had witnessed from his bar stool near the window.