I was sick and tired of the heat and being constantly drenched in a blanket of sweat, so I decided to book it towards the mountains. By complete coinicidence, a beautiful Nicaraguan girl was heading the same direction, and later that evening, I found myself out for a night on the town with her. Now, sit down in front of the rocking chair while Grandpa Eric explains about his first date with a Latina. And by the way, she speaks no English.
First off, if you aren’t a Latino, throw out every idea you have about women…because they definitely don’t follow the same rules. As soon as I figure out what rules they do follow, I’ll let ya know…but don’t expect that anytime soon. So we hopped on the old school bus towards Maltagapa and took our places right next to each other on the same seat. Some days, my Spanish is pretty good, but others, it’s horrendous. I was on a horrendous day, so was in no mood to talk. When I saw that she started listening to music from her phone, I suddenly had a change in heart. I politely inquired to what was playing and before I knew it, we struck up a conversation.
After about ten minutes of conversation, she started flirting with me. Now, for me, this is not uncommon, because people I meet often mistake me as Brad Pitt. I know, I know, we both share an almost identical face and a perfectly sculpted stomach, so I understand the confusion. But I wanted to play this fair, so I explained to her that although we share quite a bit of resemblance, Brad was actually my older brother. Didn’t matter…she kept flirting, and even put her number in my cell phone. Alright, I got a number without doing any work…very cool. Now I just needed to figure out a way to explain to her that I lied and actually hold no relation what so ever to Mr. Pitt.
When we arrived at our destination, we shared a cab, with her going to her mother’s house, and myself heading towards a hostel in the center. After sometime researching how I should actually call her (since my phone doesn’t work in this country, I only carry it to look important), I finally gave her a ring from a cafe down the road. We agreed to meet up at a little Italian restaurant for a drink later that night. Looking at my watch, I realized I had about five hours to learn the Spanish language.
The afternoon was spent trying to memorize “Spanish for Dummies” in hopes of having a smooth conversation later that evening. Thankfully, the knowledge started to come back to me just in time, so I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I then decided to go all out and actually take a shower beforehand, something that has not been indulged upon within the past eighty four days. I iced the cake by even throwing on a polo shirt, which I have yet to wear on this trip. For the first time in I don’t even know how long, I looked like a respectable human being. I did my pregame jam out to Ricky Martin’s tune La Vida Loco and before I knew it, it was game time.
I hailed a taxi and made the quick trip to the restaurant. I explained to the taxi driver my predicament (that being she only spoke Spanish and my Spanish was a little rough), and of course, he got a kick out of it. So here I am, pulling up to our location, about to go on a date with a girl whose culture I barely understand, and having the taxi driver laugh his ass off at me. Don’t worry…I wasn’t nervous at all (please note the extreme use ofsarcasm here).
With my sink or swim mentality that I have held throughout this trip, I confidently walked up using the “Eric Strut” (also known as “Bad Ass Strut”) to find her. When I saw her, I tried to remember what to say in Spanish, but due to my poor choice in a pregame song, the only word I could think of was la vida loco. Thankfully, by the time we exchanged greetings, I had regained my composure.
We went to a table that was surrounded by a beautiful courtyard and proceeded to have two hours worth of amazing conversation. We really got to know each other and had a great time while we were at it. Towards the end, I was feeling pretty confident with my Spanish ability and asked her what she thought. She then told me my language skills were still awful, but never the less, she laughed and said she was still able to understand me.
The restaurant was closing, so we headed out. I thought the night went pretty well, so I asked if I could see her the following day. She replied with an enthusiastic yes, and asked if I would like to possibly meet her mother in the evening. Whoooaaaa….meet her mother??? That’s a pretty huge leap, but what the hell, why not.
And this is where the chapter ends…because at the time of writing, future events have yet to unfold. Stay tuned to see if the “Meeting of the Vicious Mother” actually happens.