BLAME EVANGELINA
So I guess the shortest route to being labeled sexist and racist is to say that I find short, slightly plump young Hispanic women somewhat attractive. Not all of them, but most.
Before stringing me up in the nearest tall tree, blame Evangelina.
She was not plump, but she was (and probably still is) a first-generation Mexican-American and was (and with luck still is) extremely attractive. Muy bonita. Short in stature with long, black hair. Flirtatious. Fun. Sexy. Hard-working. Highly intelligent. Caring. Trustworthy. Man, could she roll her R's. I fell for her hard. My feelings for her began as a rebound obsession and turned into a good friendship with occasional side trips into more. And the inevitable detours into much less as well.
We worked together, and our jobs helped marinate our friendship and make it more flavorful and relevant. When we had to work late at night, I’d drive Evangelina (who at the time didn’t have a car) home. She lived out near the lake, and sometimes, if we weren’t too tired, we’d take the scenic route and drive around for an hour. We’d talk, laugh and grow closer. I remember one time we got stuck inside a campground and couldn’t figure how to get back to the road.
“Which way should we go?” I asked her.
“Well, we can’t stay here. What would we do? Sit and stare at each other all night?”
Oh, I’m sure we’d have found something else to do. It would have involved putting our cultural/religious differences aside and other revealing things. But we found our way out and I took her home.
Evangelina and I were destined only to be good friends. And we were, with our jobs, having classes together, occasionally hanging out. I got up the nerve to ask her to our junior prom, but when she wouldn’t give me an answer a week later, I asked someone else who readily accepted. Evangelina had hoped a specific someone-else would ask her, but she ended up going alone. And still crushed by teen-age rejection, I wouldn’t even dance with her.
But our friendship remained fairly strong up through graduation. I stopped working my senior year to focus on academics. She was promoted to manager and her schoolwork suffered. She usually called me only when she needed homework, a missed assignment, or to borrow a book. I heard snippets about her through a mutual friend, but never saw her again. And then I stopped hearing about her, too.
Is this is story of unrequited love? Not really. Was just thinking about her the other day and hoping she was doing well. That, and I saw a short, slightly plump Hispanic woman at the grocery store. Was it forward of me to smile and wink?
