I am not ANYONE'S mamacita!

2003-04-07 - 11:08 a.m.

Saturday night I�m sitting at home at 11:30 at night. I�ve had a wonderful Italian dinner (courtesy of BW and Aqua Santa), and I�ve had a long, deep conversation with Chou-Chou about spirituality and the universe. I was trying to explain to her how I see the universe, religion, and how we fit into the grand scheme of things. I won�t get into the who�s and what�s and how�s of that conversation, I�m still mulling over it. I want go on to a simpler subject instead�.like the stupidity of men.

You know, it�s a good thing that L2 (Yum-my!) is around to remind me that men have a small purpose in my life. Why? Because they generally do stupid things and they are oblivious to them. And some are ignorant enough to think that they look good doing it, or impressive, or something that they are not.

So I�m sitting at home, BW has gone to bed, and I�m in the mood to samba. So I head down the street to the neighborhood Brazilian Lounge. Run into acquaintances, hang out with them, I�m having a good time. I�m having a discussion with my little buddy Al (not Stupid Guy). He�s a co-patriot and he loves music, so we have some things in common to chat about. We�re having a discussion about his fear of the dance floor. He�s played in bands, he�s great with musical instruments, he plays the bongos with gusto, he can not dance to save his life! I don�t get it. He has rhythm, it�s obvious when he plays the bongos, but he stiffens on the dance floor. Oh, well. He wants to learn to dance, he keeps saying he�s going to learn, but he shies from it. I, being the genius that I am, thought of a way for us to �dance� together. I told him I was in the mood for some samba and wanted him on the bongos. A dancer follows the music, the music leads, since he�s playing the bongos he�s leading the dance and we�d, therefore, be dancing together. Al loved the idea. So I ask the dj for samba and he starts leading off into it, Al gets the bongos and tells another buddy that I want the bongos played, so his buddy gets on the other bongo. Suddenly, it�s a great bongo fest, with lively samba music playing. Ah! I love dancing with those bongos playing. It is such an incredible feeling to just give yourself over to the music and the rhythm of those bongos, especially when they are played that well. The high that I get from that is only second to an incredible orgasm.

I had to cool off and re-hydrate after that. Enter Stupid Guy. Now, you culturally/socially inept men want to pay close attention. First off, Stupid Guy a filthy stranger, DARES to come up and pinch my cheek. ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! I was frozen with shock. Next, he starts trying to pull me on the dance floor, but I am at this point still frozen with shock over the pinching the cheek incident. I suddenly snap out of it, yank my hand back and give him a filthy look. �DO NOT TOUCH MY FACE.� (I know, I�m about 20 seconds late with a that phrase, but I was in shock!) Stupid Guy is still standing in front of me doing his white-boy dance, which is offensive on its own. �Go away,� I command. And then he says, �OH, come on mamacita, don�t make me look bad.� I just look at him with contempt and turn my head, Stupid Guy has just been vanquished from my universe, he no longer exists in my realm.

Mamacita? Mamacita????? Who the fuck�.???? Ok, listen up you socially/culturally inept people: Calling a girl �mamacita� doesn�t get Latin men anywhere, what makes idiotic white boys think its going to get them any further? Second of all, the only Latin men who go around calling women �mamacita� are very low class men. And I just happen to (shamefully) be just a little elitist.

Second of all, just because I want to dance a little samba, a dance that happens to be very sexy, does NOT mean I�m up for grabs. Why would I be hanging with a crew that is all couples or Lesbian women? I don�t want to be bothered, that�s why. Do you think Stupid Guy knows that �mamacita� is another way to refer to their mothers? I am still so infuriated by it.

I am not anyone�s mamacita.
Just because I am a curvy Latin woman, does not mean that I am some sort of exotic play toy that is up for grabs. No, no. I am not anyone�s mamacita. Learn to keep your filthy hands to your self, it�s not my fault you might have grown-up in some small Midwest town, deprived of my spicy culture! I am not anyone�s mamacita. What you did was be disrespectful to me, but in your white bred mind, you probably thought you were paying me a compliment.
Well, you weren�t.
You thought I was dancing for you, when I was actually dancing for me. Did it ever occur to you? In your small ignorant mind, did it ever occur to you? Didn�t you wonder why after half the night of me having dance partners just by calling them over with my eyes, why I was suddenly dancing by myself? Maybe it�s because, unlike you, the other men in that place, saw what you didn�t see�the fact that I Am NOT ANYONE�S mamacita.

By the end of the night, Stupid Guy still couldn�t get anyone in the group to dance with him. He probably thought that it was because we didn�t like white boys. He couldn�t have been more wrong. We love men of all cultures, just not severely Stupid Guys.