09 Jun 2007, 7:21 pm / Inspirado/inspired
It came in a little black box with a golden ribbon. "Es para ti," she said. I looked at her. She was always so beautiful. You know the type: always well made up from head to toe. Even the air smells good around her. "Paris Hilton, she said with a big smile when I sniffed the air like I was sighing. "That's the perfume I wear." "I like it," I said. "Yeah, it makes me feel like I'm a beautiful, sofisticated slut when I wear it. And since it is Friday y tu birthday y nos pensamos ir de parranda," she went on while reaching inside her purse, "me traje la botella." She brought the whole bottle. It was a big bottle too. I guess she was planning on us being big sluts tonight. "Hay, no . . . persinate mejor," I said, but of course I was kidding because that is how I roll. I want to tell you my relative/friends' name, but I won't because the story that I am about te tell you must remain completely annonymous for the protection of all parties involved -- and oh those parties are plenty and many. Lots of annonymity is required for this story. Thank God for the internet, otherwise I would never tell you what transpired in the next few weeks following this memorable birhtday. You be the judge whether this story is good or not. So here it continues. I took the black box with the golden ribbon. It was my 29th birthday. The last of my twenties. A very exciting number I thought. The next one would be the big 30. That just sounded so mature. 20 something still sounded young and slutty. 30 is young and desperate. 40's . . . I haven't thought about it that much. I'm sure I'll come up with something as I near that decade. I untied the ribbon. Paris Hilton in the air. My friend/relative sat on the couch. Her thick brown curles resting on one side of her shoulders. Her skin was was perfectly toasted from a recent trip to Cabo. "Andale, abrelo. You're going to love it," she urged. Her big eyes dancing. The box was so light. I shook it. I didn't hear anything. "Andale, que me desesperas. It is nothing great, but I know you're going to love it." I took the lid off. I saw pinck tissue papar folded nicely around something blue. I took the small bundle out and unwrapped it. What came out was what looked like a string. A blue string shaped into a triangle. In what appeared to be the back, was something of a gold heart with a tiny rhinestone -- like a diamond. Very cute. Pero, I had never worn something like this. In fact, I've suffered from "granma-underwear" trauma all my life because that is what I like to wear. "Ya es tiempo que empiezes a usar tangas," she said. "No!!!" I protested laughing. "I like my granmas." "Por eso no tienes man. They feel they're going to bed with their abuela." "No, I don't have a man because I just have not found the right one." "There is no right one. There are million right ones. Y esta noche vamos a empezar con numero uno. Y preparate porque the sales girl me dijo que estas tangas tienen su reputation. Supposedly, they have some magical powers that make guys go crazy for you. We have to put them to the test tonight." I brought them up in front of me. Examining the size. I couldn't imagine them covering anything. I was sure to have to shave 99% of myself. The back string was so thin, I probably wouldn't feel it or it was going to give me a bad rash. "Andale, go take a shower and get ready," she said. "Okay," I said while put the dainty string blue tanga neatly back in the box. I really liked the little golden dangly thing with the rhinestone in the back. Man, they make those things look cute. "Don't forget to shave cochina!" she yelled while I ran upstairs to get into the shower. TO BE CONTINUED . . . .
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