Ulyses & Hija: La Verdad Sorprende

Ulises: Sabes, debes investigar tu nombre actual. No me gusta llamarte, Hija, aunque es el único nombre que se te llama, pero, bueno, no quiero que piensen que somos padre e hija, especialmente ya que tengo menos años que tu. Pero claro, no pienses que es eso, ya que también me gustan las chicas majores.

Hija: Bueno, cambiemos el tema. ¿No Crees? ¿Sabes, esta noche se transmite un programa de Willie Chirino, el salsero Cubano desde el James L. Knight Center en Miami. Creo que es el canal dos.

Ulises: No se cual será. De todos modos, segurmente me dará sueño antes del programa.

Hija: Es una estación de Miami que dá programación cultural, sin anuncios. Creo que será facil de localizar. Te gusta Willie?

Ulises: Sí. Siendo Cubano, como no me va a gustar? Y a ti?

Hija: Sí, un poco. Bueno, si no estás dormido, quien sabe si la podrás ver? yo quizas. Mira, otra cosa—

Ulises: Quizás duerma temprano.

Hija: No sé como decirlo. Tu crees que nos veamos otra vez?-- pero con cuidado claro, ya que es mejor no hacer nada indebido, y despues quedar mal el uno con el otro.

Ulises: Sí, por supuesto, que podemos vernos de nuevo .

Hija: Es más, ni se como hablar de lo del Sábado pasado; me da un poco de pena e incertidumbre. No sé; parece que así soy yo, pero, por lo menos pasamos un buen rato.

Ulises: No te preocupes, Hija. Yo no soy nuevo contigo. Conversa lo que tú quieras, sin problemas--que somos adultos.

Hija: Otra cosa. En inglés hay un refran--te lo intentaré traducir. “There's been a lot of water under the bridge since last we met.”O sea, “Bastante ha seguido el rio fluyendo, bajo el puente, desde que últimamente nos vimos, y por eso, bueno, todo me luce distinto. Ni sé como te lucen a ti las cosas. Claro, no te preocupes; no te estoy comprometiendo, ni nada semejante.

Ulises: Yo te lo dije el sabado. Yo puedo estar contigo, pero sin compromiso.

Hija: Sí, eso me lo imaginé--que querías seguir sólo. Pues fija que tambíen, desde cierto punto, me gusta la libertad. Lo único, es que, bueno, mejor no decir mas—

Ulises: No te vallas, Hija. Si te ofendí en algo, disculpas. Solo quería serte sincero.

Hija: Pues, mira que no. No sabes el alivio que ese rechazo—

Ulises: No es rechazo, chica!

Hija: Si, quizás, pero hay uno quien nunca me rechazará; no importa que he hecho o falté de hacer. No se porque pensé que contigo sería distinto.

Ulises: Ah, ya veo. De nuevo, te refieres a algo espiritual. Lo siento, Hija. Quizás la religion te conviene más a ti que a mi.

Hija: Lo dices porque soy mujer, y a caso, los hombres no son capaces de amar a Cristo, también.

Ulises: No he dicho eso. Pero, sí, para nosotros nos cuesta más, siendo hombres que nunca desean que nadie los piense débil. Sí, lo sé. Pensarás que soy machista, pero date de cuenta que hay quienes lo verían raro, ya que Cristo no solo era el Dios del mundo o algo semejante. El actualmente caminó y vivió como hombre. Y hay quienes le luce raro eso, que un hombre profese amar a otro, aunque se dice que es Dios.

Hija: Y crees que a nosotras, las mujeres, no es difícil amar a un ser divino que también es hombre, especialmente nosotras que no tenemos esposos o novio sincero. Te diré que es muy duro. Quizás tan duro como lo que tú me cuentas.

Ulises: Hija. No nos despidamos así. Sigamos amigos. Si no puedes por tu religion, o algo, verme otra vez porque no quiero comprometirme, bueno. Lo siento. Me hubiera gustado ser tu amigo, de nuevo.

Hija: Sí, Ulises. También lo siento. A mi me hubiera gustado eso también. Bueno, gracias y cuídate.

Ulises: Que tu Dios te bendiga, Hija.

Hija: Gracias, Ulises. Que El te bendiga a ti, también. Adios.

Vivo de veras: Ramón & Kika: Alive for Real

English version follows the Spanish version. Please see below.

 Ramón: Presiento que ya no me amas como me amabas antes. A caso tienes otro tío, y siendo tan inocente yo, ni me he enterado? Me hubiera gustado que me lo hubieras dicho. Creo que dirías lo mismo, si fueras tú quien tenía la duda.

Kika: Te quiero, Ramón, pero amo a Cristo más.

Ramón: Pero que dices! Prefieres querer a alguién quien ni has visto en vez de mí, tu Ramón?

Kika: Pues, mira que no, Ramón, no eres mí Ramón ya, pues seguramente, Amparo también diría que le perteneces a ella. Espera! Es Nicholas, con quien ella está ligada, no tú. Disculpas.

Ramón: No sabes ni que dices. Entre Amparo y yo no hay nada menos que malos recuerdos. Siempre se quejaba que repentinamente no sabía de mí por la Catalepsia, y que solo era susto, tras susto, tenerme por novio.

Kika: Sí, Ramón, a las chicas les gustan los tíos vivos, no semi-muertos como tú.

Ramón: Que mala eres, Kika. Pensaba que de veras me querías. Pero solo sabes como mejor herirme. No tengo la culpa que se enamoran de mi mujeres y que siguen conmigo, por un rato, a pesar de la Catalepsia. O quizás piensas que a los tíos que padecen de Catalepsia también no se pueden enamorar, ni merecen ser amados? Bueno, te quedas conmigo esta vez? O que?

Kika: Mira, Ramón, mejor me quedo con Cristo que sé de veras que sí me quiere y ese sí está vivo.

Ramón: I feel you no longer love me the way you used to. You haven’t found another guy, have you? I’m probably so naive, that if you had, I wouldn’t have noticed it. I would have liked for you to have told me. I think you’d say the same if it were you that had the doubts about me.

Kika: I like you, Ramón, but I love Christ more.

Ramón: What are you talking about! You prefer someone that you have never seen instead of me, your Ramón?

Kika: Actually, Ramón, you are not my Ramón any longer. I’m sure Amparo also would say that you belong to her, as well. Wait a minute! It’s Nicholas she’s involved with, not you. My mistake.

Ramón: You don’t even know what you’re saying. Between Amparo and me, only bad memories linger, not affection. She always complained that on account of my Catalepsy she never knew if I was coming or going. She claims all I ever gave her was one scare after another.

Kika: Yes, Ramón, women like their guys to stay alive, not semi-conscious like you.

Ramón: You’re really bad, Kika. I thought you really liked me. It seems you’re better at hurting me, than liking me. I’m not to blame that, in spite of my Catalepsy, women still find me attractive, fall in love, and stay with me for a while. Or should guys with Catalepsy not also love and be loved? So, are you sticking it out with me this time, or what?

Kika: Look, Ramón, it’s better that I remain with Christ whom I know really loves me. Of this I’m sure: He’s more alive and well than you yourself are.

Two Women. Two Men. One Home.

Marisa: Rodrigo, thank you for accepting my invitation to dinner after church service. The Sabbath day is so long at home sometimes and I don’t always feel like staying there to eat.

Rodrigo: I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Church people can be funny and wonder why we’re going off together in your car after church when they know I have a wife back in Mexico, and, ideally, I should either hang out with other single men or married couples, but not with you, Marisa, a single woman. But, we don’t live in an ideal world and no one talks to me the way you do or is thoughtful enough to drive me home Wednesday after Wednesday night.

Marisa: They say that the only safe place to meet other single or married church members is at dinner parties or picnics. That way you have an excuse to get to know other women’s husbands socially, and no one raises an eyebrow, like they might be doing now if they wanted to. (There’s a knock on the door.) Hi, Candela. Nice surprise, but I don’t recall inviting you over. I didn’t even know you were in church. But I’m glad you’re here.

Candela: I had to come over. You don’t know how some people started to talk, when you left. I tried to defend you and say that you were good friends from Wednesday night services, but they insisted, that it was unnatural for you to be so kind to Rodrigo just because he’s lonely for his wife and kids in Mexico. So I told them, that I had also been invited to your house and if they wanted I could bring you both back for the film they’re showing tonight. It’s either one of Almodovar’s tamer works, or Ben Hur, or Ingmar Bergman’s Wild Strawberries. I’ve seen the last two in church film nights over the years. I’ve yet to see Talk to Her or something even more austere or light-hearted, like Volver. Who knows? Maybe someday.

Marisa: I’ve never heard of that last title? I don’t think he’s filmed it yet, or even imagined it.

Candela: Not to worry, chica. We live in an alternate universe and almost anything is possible in this one. (There’s another knock on the door.) I’ll get it; it’s probably the delivery boy. I ordered tapas from across the street. (Opens door.) Carlos! What are you doing here? Marisa, did you invite him too?

Marisa: Carlos, I hope you’re here with good intentions and don’t plan to spoil our dining plans. The last time we met was not the happiest, at least for me--for Candela, but not for me.

Carlos: I just moved into the neighborhood and saw Candela going up to your building, so I decided to follow her. I hope—Who’s this? Your new boyfriend?
Marisa: This is Rodrigo; he’s Mexican. We just came home from church. Candela suddenly joined us.

Rodrigo: Mucho gusto, Carlos.

Carlos: El gusto es mío. (The pleasure’s all mine.) Can I join you as well? I haven’t had breakfast or anything. Besides, looks like there’s too many women in here and I would balance things out.

Marsia: Ok, Carlos, you can stay for lunch, but then we’re leaving and we can’t spend too much time together. The food is almost ready. Let’s go into the dining room and catch up on news or friends in common.

Carlos: I feel kinda like the odd man out here. Three Christians against one heathen. I don’t consider myself a heathen. I believe in God, or maybe just god, in my own way, but you guys probably think of me as a heathen because of the two—

Candela: You don’t have to say another word. Carlos, what you do with your life is your own affair. We all are not insensitive to you, especially since we ourselves were perceived as heathens, or just irreligious people, some time ago. But enough about that. Let’s eat.

Carlos: I mean it’s not like I deny that God or Christ exit, it’s just that, really, I don’t have a need for them. They make no sense to me. I’m fine as I am and have been so for many years. And when I feel blue, I take walks in the park or call a friend to go out to the bars or parks to look for some way out of the black cloud that’s on its way out, I hope. (Smiles.)

Marisa: I didn’t feel a need for him either. I had my work; I had sold many properties and the only thing missing was a lasting relationship with a man, but those things take time. I was living a life crowded with incident, until I came across the strangest quote from an obscure site, http://www.perfectfuturo.com/, that said. “If you hate me, or don’t care either way about me, I still love you very much. I would like to be part of your life and I would like you to be part of mine.” It was the plainest web page I'd ever seen. The entire page was the oddest sky blue color and in large blue type were these words. I was bored so I clicked on the only other link and realized that the “me” in the story was a little known saying of Christ’s that may exist only in our alternate universe.

Carlos: Marisa, I really didn’t come here to listen to how you got religion. I saw Candela, then I got hungry, then I opened my big mouth, and now I’m sitting in church with the three of you. Not everybody cares how you found or didn’t find God. It’s not important to most people in Spain or Europe or parts of California, e.e.u.u. Besides, you believe what you want to believe and I’ll believe what I want to believe, Ok?

Candela: Carlos, I’m sorry you feel that way--that we’re here to talk religion to you. But you were the one who followed me and asked if you could stay for lunch?

Carlos: It was because I hadn’t seen you in a long time, and I wanted to surprise you, or mostly surprise myself. I still think of you, Candela, after all this time.

Rodrigo: Sorry to interrupt, but my wife’s calling on my cell phone and I may be a while. I hope things have cooled down when I get back. It’s better for our digestion, or so I’ve been told.

Candela: No, no, Rodrigo. Don’t worry. Talk to her and we’ll be in a better place when you return.

Three Women. One Man.

Pepa: Last night was the worst in a while. Ivan haunted me in my dreams. Even though I’ve had other boyfriends—not many, mind you—why would he still appear after so many years?

Marisa: Candela told me the same thing happens to her with Carlos. Yes, she did try to stay with him until he got his hair back, then she let him go for a guy who was naturally hairless, but still, he appears to her months after their final goodbyes.

Candela: If you wanted to tell the story of my life, you could have asked me; I was only in the kitchen looking for anything but gazpacho to sip on while we chatted.

Marisa: Sorry, cielo, I thought it was the perfect thing to say in answer to her haunting dream with Ivan. I also have dreams with Carlos, and I haven’t had as many dates as you have Pepa, but I go through the motions. Work, shopping, walking the dog to the park to see if someone new is there with his dog as well, church when I can, the Internet. No, I think that’s not been popularized yet. After all, it’s only 1990. I’m getting ahead of myself.

Pepa: Niña, the oddest things come out of your mouth. Well, really out of our mouths. It’s like we have little control. Sometimes we allude to things that don’t quite fit into our time period. Clearly we long for something better than our present technological world has to offer. I wonder why he insists on being so self-conscious when we talk.

Candela: It’s because the writer’s male. If it were one of us, we’d stick to the time period at hand & not even mention ourselves. We’d let the characters talk. Meanwhile, back at the Ivan & Carlos in-our-dreams line of thought—

Pepa: So Marisa, no interesting men in church, especially on Wednesday nights when only the quality guys attend?

Marisa: No not really, Mostly married men come with their sleepy wives. Some men dart in and out to see if anyone new is visiting. The only regular contact is Rodrigo. He’s the married Mexican who’s overstayed his visa and is always afraid some day he’ll be deported.

 
Candela: No, no, Marisa. Not deported; that’s only in America where people have to worry about being deported. Here in Spain, we welcome their diversity, or so we’d like to think. And at least, he speaks Spanish, so we don’t have to look for a translator.

Pepa: So you’re only contact at church is with a married Mexican who’s overstayed his visa? Not the most hopeful of prospects, sweetie. So nothing happened between you at all?

Marisa: I mean, we always pray together & go out afterwards for ice cream or light shopping, then, I drive him home. Last Wednesday as we licked the last of our ice cream cones, he said, “Marisa. I’ll always remember you when I go back to Mexico.” I was touched he said that, but not comfortable with such candor, I quickly said, “As will I, Rodrigo, I’ll think of you too. But you’re not going back to Mexico anytime soon.” Every time we say goodbye, I always think it’s the last time, because of the deportation thing, that may or may not happen. At least I have him to talk to in church. The other ladies are either holding their crying toddlers or talking of when they used to have kids of their own. There’s not much in common with them, I’m afraid.

Candela: You’re behaving well. Me, I have to constantly take my appetite suppressant so I don’t substitute food for the love I don’t have right now. It’s not easy being good Christian women, after all the wild nights with even wilder men that we’ve known in our lives. Virgins in the church have it so good. They’re not as tempted because they’ve never been with a man. They’re young and with any luck, they’ll marry their current boyfriends, and life will be all right until their husband leaves them or dies in one of the many raging wars we get involved in from decade to decade. Then those Christian ex-virgins are in our shoes. Women in love with Him, but longing for the intimacy they used to enjoy with their missing husband.

Pepa: Non-christian women have it so easy. Well not so easy, but easier. Not all, mind you, but most, or to be fair, some, feel a need for sex and it’s easier than it is for us. They may make hasty decisions, and regret the next day or week after, or get lucky and stay with the man for a while, then they’re fine till the next “big need” comes up. For us though, we can’t live with ourselves if we do what we used to do before we met Him. We have to grin and bear it, get involved with other things, or focus on the reality of Christ—ah, at last I use the ineffable name—and enjoy our lives as much as we can.

Candela: Or we could be “modern” Christian women and say we love Christ and love men too. I mean, didn’t you try that for a while? Oh, sorry, that’s how you wound up with Ivan, wasn’t it.

Marisa: Give it time. Take care of yourself. Don’t criticize yourself too much; it only leads to depression. Eat right, keep in touch, loose yourself in your work.

Pepa: Don’t think you have all the right approaches. I want to work on my potential. There are things I could have done when I was younger, that I can’t redo, career-wise, but I can do the best with what I have to work with right now, myself and all the opportunities I have at my disposal.

Candela

Marisa: Yes, true. We’re following the self-help books and the good book as best as we can. Our only other option, is to do whatever we want with our desires or urgent needs, or just wait for the Man to make his plans clearer for our lives. Thank God, we have each other. Where would we be without understanding friends, Christian or otherwise?

Christian Princes on the Verge

Angel: Paquito, how long it's been since I last saw you! So much has changed. You’ve changed as well, but you’ve still retained your sense of humor. I’m happy. Why assume major changes have to completely alter one’s personality?

Paco: Zah—Sorry, Angel, I thought you’d die, or was it your brother. Sorry, I put my foot in my mouth. It’s good to see you, amigo.

Angel: Yes, life is good, not perfect, after all, I’m not yet, or may never become a Perfect Futurist, if such a creature exits. But I’m finding new avenues I never wanted to try. At times, I feel alone, but perhaps that’s our basic condition, even when we have someone we care about right next to us. When we dream, we dream alone.

Paco: Since we parted I’ve moved to Miami, Florida in the U.S.A., or as they say in Madrid, in e.e.u.u. I opened a successful hair salon on the Miracle Mile & that’s where I still am. My brother didn’t join me in going to meet Him, but I’m still close to him, as I am to his, well, our, friends.

Angel: When you speak of Him, you mean Pedro, or the other g--. OK, I’ll behave.

Paco: I found a huge church in Miami Central. It reminds me of the ones in Havana that my brother remembers from his childhood. I’m sure they know I’m not your typical church member, but they seem nice. And, some of them even come into my shop to get their hair done or their nails. No, I’ve stopped that; I can’t stand toxic fumes. Some of them look at me funny at times, but who knows, they may have some problems of their own. Why should I dwell on the meaning of their looks? After all, it’s not every day, though I hope it happens more and more, that you see a princess become a prince and sit down in pews where only those who were born princes, from day one, sit.

Angel: For me it’s been harder, as I’m sure you’re aware. After the operation, I met Him, and I’m very fond of my life with Him, but well, I’m not the same little boy I used to be at 17. Even though I look male now and gradually act more butch, though it is hysterical how often I cross my legs the wrong way in church, and quickly correct it as best I can before anyone has the chance to notice. And if I cross them oddly now and then, well, then, I cross them oddly.

Paco: I’m lucky to have my brother who I’m very close to & our friends at work. Work is what keeps me sane, and, of course, I want the shop to be as successful as it was in the days when all the celebrities came by and complemented me for succeeding where they hadn’t done so, on Miracle Mile. Do you have many friends from the old days?

Angel: Not really, here and there. Most of my friends are at work, and some casual friends in the complex where I live. It’s difficult for me because of my options or lack of them. But either, way I can’t complain too much. I’m in less pain than I was before.

Paco: So you’re not seeing anyone? Have you spoken to anyone about your options? What did you father say?

Angel: He’s a great guy, though a bid odd. He looked at me kindly and said, you know Angel, you can’t really marry a woman, because, technically you are one. And you can’t marry a man, because that wouldn’t be right either. When I asked him, if he thought someone else like me would be all right, he looked at me even kinder, but shook his head.

Paco: So that’s it? You’re going to listen to your papá and live your life alone just because you’re with Him now? You think he wants you to live your life with only friends and family by your side? Look at me, I have—what am I saying? All I have is friends and family and not much else.

Angel: I traveled to Loma Linda University and spoke to a Dr. Sakae Kubo, an ethicist in the Medical Center, and asked him what advice he could give me. Did Ellen White ever, even, hint that people like me would find a rewarding life with Him years after she penned her famous Testimonies? He was very kind to me. He said, “Angel. Transsexualism or hermaphrodites or intersexuals, are very complicated phenomena. No one can explain them well enough, and the kindest thing is simply to say that we don’t know enough about it, or perhaps, never will, to make any judgment or final decisions. When I pressed him, all he could say was, “His grace is sufficient for you. When you are weak, then you are strong.”

Paco: I’ve never understood that one. It went over my head as well. But it’s better than a slammed door any day.

Angel: It made no sense, either. But, gradually, it has taken on a strange power and sustaining force all its own. I mean, I may one day find the answer He wants me to find. And even though it’s not the best answer for this life to say this, but I know that someday he will remake me into the person He always meant for me to be. He might even surprise me.

Paco: Angelito, thanks for telling me about Sakae Kubo. I wish I had met him. Let’s keep in touch and perhaps, one day you’ll move to Miami, Florida or I’ll move back to Spain, but either way, we’ll always keep in touch. I’m only a prayer away, papito.

Christian Men on the Verge

Ivan: Hola, Carlos. I haven't seen you since you were born? How did your life turn out? Your mother tells me you make her nervous just listening to you because of your stuttering. You can't blame that on me. That you can't inherit and I wasn't around to cause it.

Carlos: Hola, papa. I can still call you papa, or would you prefer, Ivan? Well, I've turned out alright. The stuttering is kinda charming, at least some women tell me that. The good thing about kissing, is I don't have to talk.

Ivan: There are three possible futures for us, now that we've found each other again.

• We could try to become true-to-life father and son at the earliest convenience. If it doesn't work out, then we could still remain friends. or
• We could continue this careful, orchestrated, & lovely dance-like experience & allow it to lead where it dictates. or
• We could just have distant memories of a brief encounter between two Spanish men who chanced upon each other by kismet somewhere in the late 20th century.

Carlos: I'm not sure you feel strongly about any of the three ways? Did you expect me to choose how I'd prefer to remember my father decades from now when we're separated for good?

Ivan: Your choice --- but does Eartha Kitt come with the Kismet?!?

Christian Women on the Verge, Part 2

Marisa: What’s wrong Candela? You look awful. You don’t cry easy, so something has affected you more than usual.

Candela: I’ve lost him again, Marisa.
  
Marisa: Him? You mean Carlos?

Candela: El mismo. (The very same.)

Marisa: What happened this time? I hope it’s not the same reason, he found someone he liked more than his current girlfriend?

Candela: I think Carlos is sick. But not anything serious, at least—well, maybe it is serious. I walked into his bedroom, & he was combing his hair. I didn’t make a sound because I wanted to look at him & see how long he combed his hair. Marisa, he never put that brush down. When I saw that he was heading for the door, I hid, so he wouldn’t see me looking at him. But afterwards, he returned & started combing his hair again.

Marisa: Chica, if the guy wants to get that big head of hair done the right way, what is wrong with that. I mean, just how long was he combing it? Twenty minutes?

Candela: It seemed like an hour. Then when he came back, he combed it for what seemed like another hour. So I finally break his fixation & say, “Carlos. This is not like you, combing your hair for such a long length of time. Nobody, especially a man, spends that much time combing his hair?”

Carlos: Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve always combed my hair this long. You just weren’t with me when the mood struck me to do it.

Candela: Are you gay?

Carlos: Me? No, I just stutter. (Smile.) Just because I like to look at myself in the mirror while I comb my hair, doesn’t mean I’m gay. Lots of guys like looking at themselves while they’re grooming themselves. If they didn’t they would lose their self-esteem.

Candela: Carlos, I have self -esteem, but you don’t see me standing in front of a mirror for an hour and a half grooming myself. If your hairstyle takes too much time maybe it’s time to just go bald.

Carlos: For you, Candela, I’d go bald. So, now are you happy?

Candela: Well, a little bit, though I hope that bald look catches on. I wouldn’t want others to think I was dating a handsome, but bald guy.

Carlos: I’ll always keep it just a little bit unshaven, so your girlfriends won’t think I’m totally bald.

Candela: Well, maybe I’ll go bald too then we’d be “beautiful” together.

Christian Women on the Verge of a Cosmic Meltdown, Part 1

(An alternate history, or mildly satirical story, for fans of the Man and, hopefully, of Pedro Almodovar. Thank you, Mr. A., for thinking up these timeless women, Christian or otherwise.)

Imagine, if you will, two women concerned not about the men in their lives, though that is important to them, but about the Man in their lives. Though each woman has been actively engaged in a relationship of some sort with this unique man among men, something always seems to elude them. This , then, is the conversation they have one day when they've just found out that, unknown to each other, they had been trying to get to know this one-of-a-kind Man.

Pepa: You know, Candela, you could have told me what your obsession with him was. I always found it unnatural that you spent so many days upset when things didn't go the way you wanted it to go with him.

Candela: Darling Pepa, I didn't know how to tell you about this, um, fixation I had with this man. It truly felt like nothing I had felt before. The odd thing was that it was the first real relationship with a man that didn't involve a physical dimension, though, I soon realized that in some ways, it was more satisfying at times, than the best I had had with past boyfriends.

Pepa: I wanted someone like that more than you can imagine, especially when my last lover left me for his ex-wife's lawyer. Had it not been for that odd girl who lingered in my apartment after she woke up from her long Valium-induced dream, I probably would still be thinking about Juan, or Roman, or, see--how quickly I've forgotten him. Anyway, I'm thankful to Marisa that she told me about her chance encounter with this unique man after her boyfriend, well, your last boyfriend left her.

To be continued--