The Man I Said I'd Never Do

Back in the Saddle

To the one who started (or ended) it all

Source

We met during the FIFA Confederations Cup. Unfortunately, I wasn't in Brazil for the tournament. I watched the host country battle Uruguay on the big screen, broadcast in Portuguese, while I ate linguiça frita mandioca. A few days later, I watched Spain and Italy go to a 7-round penalty shootout, ginger beer in hand. On the day of the Brazil v Spain Championship game, I met a Mexican.


Juan Manuel Francisco Javier* didn't look "indigenous" (his words, not mine) and he was at least 5'10". Immediately after he told me he was an Afro-Cuban drummer (he broke down batá to me) and a saxophone player his hands and lips stood out even more; his hands screamed power, his lips fuller.

He's Too Short For Me

He answered my ad, which was more of a rant on folks going online to meet people then never actually meeting.


He told me he was "quite young", in his 20's. In any capacity, I avoid them. But since this wasn't a date-date, I was my usual open-minded, adventuresome self. I sent the message, "Quite young"? Oh boy. But I'm not looking to date so I guess it's ok." I could go for some witty banter and a drink. What I did like was that he chose the place and time. I have declared to no longer deal with lazy men -- you ask me out then have a plan if I say 'yes'.