Leslie and Juan

I can’t recall how it occurred or what the major issues were involving why we hadn’t spoken to one another in a weeks time, but I’m horny as hell. Mind you, I’m not nearly the type to initiate sex. That’s his area of expertise. My boo’s specialty. I just make sure my love card is always vacant.

It boggles my mind over the mere fact that we even engaged in a verbal argument so long ago, because I never ever imagined us fighting. I know, I know it’s stupid considering a good number of couples have a domestic squabble at least once in their relationship, but I thought we were immune to that. Was I wrong or what?

Instead of me just sitting here at this stupid bar during after hours, guzzling down a Jack Daniel, I should be with my boo at our penthouse. God knows we paid enough for it. We shouldn’t allow it to go to waste, right? I mean, we’re like barely there as it is- between his nine to eleven and my five to two in the fucking morning, we rarely see each other. That is, except for when I hit the sack and snuggle up against my boo. But that doesn’t count, right? I mean, he’s asleep and I’m heading down that road.

Ohhh, life use to be sooo easy. During high school, we snuck occasional glances at one another during football practice. I was checking him out, and I knew damn well he was checking me out. And let me tell you, he was one of those fellas that attracted both genders. Hell! Who wouldn’t want him- with his yellow complexion that glistened when the sun struck it, and his finely chiseled physique. He was tall and built, but not overly buff. I hate that. Not him being tall, but him being too macho. I don’t get into the whole muscle man thing. Then there was his hair. It was a sandy color that seemed to always change colors with the seasons. The length was impressive too- flowing like silk to his shoulder blade and slightly sheltering his eyes.

I thought he was Italian or something. Upon taking the initiative and meeting him for the first time, I came to the realization that he was Puerto Rican, Asian, and Italian. I got one right.

He’s such an interesting person. Having his Masters and being a successful lawyer at only age twenty seven. What do I have? Not much. I’m just a twenty four year old manager at a theatre. Big whoop. I’ll never make as much as him. He even foots most of the bills. After three years, you would assume he would grow tired of being the bread winner. I just want to measure up to him. Shoot, I’m not even multiracial like him. I’m just a Mexican. Then he has such an astonishing name. Leslie. Can it get any better than that? I love that man.

Uh. Wait. There. This is the second time I was forced to adjust my pants. Maybe I should park my rear at a booth? No, better stay here. I’m going to need a refill.

“Hey bartender, can I get another?”

Mmmm. That hits the spot. Wait! This isn’t a Daniel. Whatever it is, it’s good.

“Sir, I think you made a mistake.”

“No mistake lad. The gentleman over yonder purchased it for ya.”

Great. That’s just what I need. Crap! What if he slipped something in here? No. It came directly from the bartender. Then again, I’m completely uncertain.

“Can you tell him I’m not interested?”

“Too late, he’s coming over.”

“You mind if I take a seat?” He has a laid back kind of voice, kind of like Leslie.

“Sorry I’m taken you’ll have to sit somewhere else.” well, I spurt that out quite well. The booze I was taking in had just started relaxing me, but then this man shows up- on the prowl no doubt. Still, I shouldn’t be too over the top. Too late. Duh. “Um, sorry, sure take a seat. Watch it, I know Karate.” Just let it all hang out will ya.

Even though it’s pretty dim in here, I can easily make out his smooth mocca complexion. Nice. No. I’m taken.

“You know Karate, eh? I’ll keep that in mind. Buy you another one?”

“Um, no thanks. I-I didn’t mean to drink the first one. It was an accident.”

Uhh. He just sat his palm on my thigh. And not the lower part. On top of that, something is vibrating in my pants.

“Hey!” I jump up out of my seat. A little too hurriedly, because the floor starts rushing toward me. Whoa! He catches me, looping his strong muscular arms around my back. “Get off.” Wriggling my way free. “I told you, I-I’m taken.” Can you say that with a little more confidence next time?

“It wouldn’t be courteous if I let you collapse, now would it?”

Perfect. Now I find myself blushing and looking down like some infatuated school girl.

“All I’m asking for is a few moments of your time.”

“I-I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

What kind of question is that? Did you not here me freak?! I’m taken! Should I spell it out for you?

“Both.”

“So, because you’re with someone, you can’t sit down and have a simple drink with me?”

“Um.” Wonderful. I’m a little tipsy. If I call Leslie to come and get me, he’ll have a fit. That’s if I can manage to call him. We haven’t said two words to each other in like a week.

“Look buddy, I have a boy. . .um a boyfind. So, go away. Go, go away.” Maybe he’ll leave if I shush him. Ah ha! It worked. So long sucker!

Hoping back on my stool is a large feat for me, but I manage.

“Hey bar man, hit me wit another one.”

“I think you’ve had quite enough lad. You don’t drink very often, do ya?”

“What makes you say that?” It’s probably the fact that I’m slouched over the counter and my words are a tad bit slurred. It’s ridiculous and embarrassing. I only had one drink and a swig of whatever that freaky guy bought for me. I can’t even reach down for my phone. If I remain here, that creepy guy from earlier might have his way with me. Leslie save me!

Oh no, I’m falling down again. Whoa! The floor is enlarging a great deal!

Whew! Someone caught me. It better not have been that guy from the bar.

“Juan. Juan are you okay?”

“Le-Leslie?”

Normally, I make it my business to carry myself like a man, but I’m sorry, I just had to jump into my man’s arms. Naturally, he catches me with ease and gathers me into bridal pose. I just cling to his arm for dear life. After what seems like a few paces, we end up in his Lexus. He hands me a sandwich to help absorb the alcohol. This is totally embarrassing. I did not want him to see me drunk as a skunk. At least during our ride home, he takes hold of my hand. I keep waiting on him to reprimand me, but he doesn’t. Perhaps he’s waiting until we get home. I’m such a screw up. Don’t know why he even bothers. He could be with anyone, but he chooses to be with me.

“I love you, Juan. Only you.”

Can he hear my thoughts? “How did-”

“You don’t stay together with someone for three years and not know anything about them. I got up to take a leak and you weren’t in bed. When you didn’t answer your cell phone, I figured you would be here. Still can’t handle a whole drink I see.” He chuckles.

He’s laughing at me. I can’t help it if I can’t hold my liquor.

Upon completing my sandwich, I start to sober up a bit. Not much, but every little bit counts. We stop abruptly and I see the pent house. I start toward the handle, but he takes hold of my hand.

“We’ve been pretty distant lately. I know you feel inadequate. From the way you sulk when bill time comes, even though we have more than enough money to pay then, and to how you’ve yet to stare into my eyes the way you did so long ago. I love you Juan. No one else, but you. I’m the luckiest person in the world. It’s not about looks, although I find you irresistible, but it’s about your heart. You’re a beautiful person on the inside and out. You’re even kind to stray animals. So, don’t pull away from me.” He nuzzles on my ear and utters tenderly, “I want to ravish you. It’s been too long, lover.”

Damn straight. While he literally carries me pass the threshold of our home, I think of just how lucky I am. I can’t recall how it occurred or what the major issues were involving why we hadn’t spoken to one another in a weeks time, but I damn sure won’t be horny anytime soon.