Part 4 "Autodestrucción"

I looked into her deep blue eyes as they started to fill with tears. I should tell her that it wasn't what it seemed like. I need to make her feel better. She really likes me and I can't break her heart like this. I think it's OK to lie if the truth only brings pain, right? 

I wake up with a splitting headache during the Spring of 2009. My fancy, downtown Madrid apartment is a mess; beer cans, empty bottles of Bacardi rum, and KFC chicken boxes decorate my floor. It's been 3 months since she left.

Her name was Emma...

Alcoholism had caught up to me in a huge way. I drank when I was sad. I drank when I was happy. I drank when I was bored. I would drink alone in my apartment or I would go to this bar on the corner of my street and order cañas (cheap beer). 

 Since Emma left, my views of the opposite sex had decreased sharply. I viewed them as objects that were only meant to be used and discarded. I began going out nightly again just satisfy my needs. I didn't want women's phones numbers. I didn't want their names. I only wanted one thing from them.

One of my favorite things to do was going on a Pub Crawl. Every night in Puerto Del Sol, a group of tourist would meet up. There would be either a girl or a guy coordinator who ran the the Pub Crawl. They would then take the group to 5 or 6 bars and clubs and purchase each patron a shot. This was great for three reasons:

1) I can drink and party on any night of the week. 

2) I could speak English again with the tourist because English is the most common travel language.

3) Tourist women were some of the easiest women because they feel they can do whatever they want with      whomever they want in foreign countries.

Black people are uncommon in Spain. 99% of all black people you will see are Africans and Africans don't have the greatest reputation among the Spaniards (or anyone else in the world for that matter). But Africans also had a reputation for what they have in their pants as well. I discovered that many Spanish girls secretly wanted to see what it was like to be with an African, but were too scared to be with Africans. But a African-Americans was a different subject entirely.

I would go home with random foreign women and drunkenly sleep with them. They would leave that night and I would most likely never see them again. Or maybe I would see them at another club and we would repeat what we done. I knew they were using me, but I saw it as a good problem. Getting to know women hadn't worked out before so I wanted no emotional attachment to anyone.

Pub Crawl (I know I look crazy)

One drunken night, while being shuffled from the one bar to another on the Pub Crawl, I was stopped by the bouncer of the club.

"Tu no puedes entrar." (You can't come in)

"Por que?" (Why)

"Ya lo sabes por que." (You already know why)

The alcohol had degraded my perception but as I looked around and finally I noticed why.

How could you forget you fool?

I had an altercation at this club before with a girl.

Her name was Emma...

I tried to explain to the bouncer that it wasn't what it looked like. That I wouldn't cause any problems. I just wanted to drink and talk to girls. 

He didn't budge.

"What's wrong?" an American accented voice asked me from behind.

I turned around and saw a blond hair, slender, long-figured woman with the bluest eyes I ever seen. 

"They won't let me in because this asshole is racist," I said.

She laughed at that.

"Well you can come with me and my friends. We are going to this Cuban club around the corner."

"Sure."

We walked into the Cuban club La Havanna. I was drunker than I realized because I was stumbling and I couldn't have been making too much sense. The blond girl just helped me around and laughed at my stupidity. 

At one point we were sitting down at a large table with other people around. We were watching the Cubans salsa. I took salsa lessons for years but I wouldn't dare touch that dance floor because the Cubans were masters of this Argentine art form. They were spinning and dancing faster than I ever seen before.

Eventually I stood up clumsily my knee bumped the table. This caused a chain reaction of the table to tilt, all the drinks to roll down to one side of the table, and in spectacular fashion, spill onto three Latino ladies at the other end of the table. All three stood up immediately and just stood there staring at me with eyes and mouths wide open.

I could have sworn I heard the music stop. 

I wanted to apologize but it looked so funny that the only words that I could muster was,

"My bad bitches."

The blonde girl grabbed my hand and we made a daring escape laughing the entire time. Then we walked. We walked with no destination. We talked about everything but nothing in particular. It was about 5 in the morning and I was getting tired. I asked if she wanted to come home with me. She accepted. 

We went to my apartment. She didn't even care about the mess. I put in a movie like I normally did. I remember that I chose Hancock with Will Smith. I laid on the couch and invited her to come closer to me. She did and wrapped her body around mine. I would try to kiss her and she would just turn her cheek. I would try to put my hand in her pants and she would softly knock it away.

What the hell man?!

Eventually I fell asleep. I woke up to a folded piece of paper on my coffee table. 

Gavin, 

I had a great time with you last night. You are so much fun. I stole your number from your phone so I'll call you later today.

-Lana

Her name was Lana...

Lana (Left)

Why in the hell would I want to talk to a girl who didn't sleep with me? She must have me confused or something.

She called the next day like she said she would in her note. She was going out with friends and wanted me to come. I told her I didn't have any money to go out. She told me not to worry about it. 

I went and met her and her friends. I figured they would be American like her but they were Spanish. I asked  if she only hung out with Spaniards or did she know some more Americans like us. Lana then told me that she wasn't American. She was Serbian. She went to an American School in Spain where they had to use English her whole life.

I asked her if we were going to get drunk somewhere cheap first. She looked at me strangely and said that she didn't drink. I told her that I saw her drink last night, but she said that she only ordered coke.

How sad Gavin. You don't know a single thing about this girl. You don't know a single thing about any girl you've met recently. Is this who you've become?

That night I abstained from alcohol because I didn't want to embarrass myself. Lana paid the entrance fee to the club and we had a great time. She seemed to have money which is very strange for someone of her age. Most Spaniards under the age of 30 are flat broke. Some 60% of the Spanish under the age of 30 are unemployed and even more still live with their parents. So for Lana to have her own money was very impressive. I learned that she was some type of advertiser for Warner Brothers in Spain. When a movie came out, she would come up with Spanish advertisements.

She went home with me again that night. Again we laid on the couch while we watched a movie.

Maybe she wouldn't sleep with me because I was so drunk last time?

I made my moves and she gently denied me yet again. When the subways opened up at 6 AM, she left me yet again confused and sexually frustrated.

I began wanting Lana now out of sheer bragging rights. We went out a few more times but we never had a moment that was anything typical friends wouldn't have done. I was confused as to why she would come home with me and not sleep with me. 

One day she called to come over. I was so sick of not getting any action that I told her that I didn't want to be just her friend, and that I couldn't see her anymore because it would be too hard. She didn't like that but she didn't argue.

The very next day she called again. 

"I'm coming over," she stated with no room for negotiation.

When she arrived and I opened the door, she gave me the biggest kiss ever. 

"I've missed you Gavin. I thought I only liked you as a friend, but when you told me that you didn't want to see me, I realized that I didn't want to lose you."

We kissed some more before we made it to my bed. I was gentle and soft as I removed her clothing. Taking of a woman's clothing is like opening a Wonder Ball. You never know what you're going to get. Most women have figured out a way to dress and conceal any unwanted attention areas, but there is no hiding it when they are undressed. Luckily Lana's body somehow looked better without the clothes. I went in close and entered her. The sex was.....

AWFUL...

We were out of rhythm. We didn't know what each other liked, and I don't think either one of us climaxed.

When she came over the next time it was much better. And even better the next time after that. By our fourth bedding, we were having lustful, great sex. We would always joke about how bad the first time was.

Things were really fun with Lana. Her job at Warner Brothers got her tickets to Spanish premiere movies in Madrid. I saw Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law for the premiere of Sherlock Holmes. She also took me to the Edge of Darkness premiere and Mel Gibson came as well. Red Carpets are really stupid. Celebrities just stand there taking pictures and only talking among themselves.

Lana and I started taking mini weekend vacations. We went to Valle De Los Caidos outside of Madrid. The Spanish dictator forced people to build this huge monument where he was buried in. We went to El Escorial which is a large Spanish monestary that took over 100 years to complete. The Spanish have an expression:

"Va a tardar mas tiempo que el Escorial" (it's going to take more than El Escorial).

El Escorial

We always had fun. I drank sometimes but not nearly as much. I didn't need to anymore. I actually enjoyed life again somber. Sometimes she would pay for me to drink a lot because she said the sex was better when I was drunk. I never argued with her on that subject. I never argued with her on any subject.

One night she invited me to the Spotify release party. I told her that I didn't really want to go because I had to be at work early in the morning and I was already on thin ice for my attendance. She said that she only wanted to go long enough to say hello to some friends. I decided to go with her. 

The party was awesome. They played good music and best of all they had an open bar. Lana kept running to the bar to get more free drinks. She's trying to get me drunk again. We stayed there and partied for longer than intended and we went back to my apartment for great, drunk sex. 

When I woke up in the morning, it was full daylight outside. I was late yet again. I checked my phone and I had 12 missed calls from my supervisor. I got ready in a hurry. Lana kept telling me how sorry she was. On my way out the door I looked at her and said, "I should have never fucked with you Lana." 

At work I was reprimanded and was recommended for punishment. I was reduced in rank and sentenced to 14 days of Extra Duty. I was angry. Really angry. All of it was directed at Lana. I stopped answering her calls. I would come up with excuses of why I couldn't see her. She told me that she was sorry and sad. I didn't care. 

This is exactly why you don't get close to women. They are nothing but trouble. Everything was good before her.

After weeks of avoiding Lana, I slipped back into my old ways. One Wednesday night I went out to Orange Cafe by myself. It was packed full of women, but I only had an eye for one. She had dark brown hair and she was dressed in a sporty hip-hop fashion. She was a little on the chubby side but the way she moved to the music had be mesmerized. Lana crossed my mind, but I quickly abandoned those thoughts. I went and talked to the girl. She was Australian and Spanish and her name was Isabel but she went by Isa. I told her how pretty I thought she was and that she should give me her number. She gave them to me.

A few nights later, Isa and I met up at a cafe up the street from my house. She said that she is from Sidney, Australia but she decided to come to Spain for a while to visit her grandmother who is suffering from dementia  Her accent was so cute and she had a beautiful face. After a few drinks, I invited her back to my apartment. She hesitated at first but she seemed to change her mind and decided to come along. She said that she could sing and she sang me some of the most beautiful songs I ever heard in person. We spent the rest of the night being intimate.  I really liked this girl. She was smart, funny, and talented. I may have been more intrigued by the fact that she was from Australia and the only thing I knew about Australia was kangaroos. 

She left the next morning. Lana called and I answered the phone. She said that she was coming over and she had to talk to me. I agreed. Before she came I noticed my room was littered with used condom wrappers. Lana and I stopped using condoms long ago. I picked them and put them into a bag. I lived on the 6th floor and the only way to take out the trash was to go all the way downstairs to the dumpster. Being lazy I just set the bag outside of my door.

Lana arrived and came in. She demanded to know why I had been avoiding her. I told her that I just wanted to be alone since I was demoted. She asked if I blamed her. If looks can tell a story, my look said it all. She gathered her things and left quickly. I could have chased behind her but I didn't care. I wanted her to leave.

Seconds later I hear a knock at my door. I opened the door to find Lana standing there. She was just staring at me without saying anything. I looked down to see that she was holding the bag full of condoms in her hand. 

"I was just going to throw your trash away for you and this is what I found inside. Tell me it's not what it looks like Gavin." Her voice cracked as she said it.

I looked into her deep blue eyes as they started to fill with tears. I should tell her that it wasn't what it seemed like. I need to make her feel better. She really likes me and I can't break her heart like this. I think it's OK to lie if the truth only brings pain, right? 

"Get the fuck out of my building Lana."

I closed the door on her and that part of my life. She had helped me come back to reality. She made me realize that women weren't objects anymore. Alcohol was the only thing that used to make me forget about Emma but Lana became something better. But I betrayed her and then turned my back on her. I felt sad but I was still so angry with her that I didn't care about her feelings anymore. So for now I had Isa and the girl who may have saved my life from alcoholism was gone forever.

Her name was Lana.

Lana took this picture for me.  I'm upset that I don't have more pictures of her.

Part 3 "Celos"

Tiffanie and I went to the Las Fallas festival in Valencia. The townsfolk would spend all year building huge papier-mache floats and parade them around the third largest city in Spain. Each major district would crown a princess and on the final day of the festival, the princesses would light a string of fireworks and in spectacular fashion, burn the floats to the ground. As the intense heat washed over us, I realized that a princess had a lit a fire in my heart.

Her name was Tiffanie.

A Falla

A Princess after lighting a Falla

A year in Madrid had come and gone. My Spanish had improved drastically and I was certified as a moderate Spanish speaker by the Spanish government. Much of this was owed to Tiffanie as she would help me with my homework and she forced me to read the newspaper and watch Spanish television.

Spanish women would approach me when I went out with her. "De donde eres?" (Where are you from) they would ask me and I would see the fascination grow on there faces as I told them the answer. Tiffanie wouldn't mind, because she knew that I was coming home with her at the end of the night. As people started to remember me around town, their approaches became more aggressive. "Toma un chupito de tequila!" (Take a shot of tequila!). "Tienes miedo?" (Are you scared?) After I was good and drunk, they would whisper things about how much fun we could have together. Ask me questions like why I had a girlfriend when I can have any woman in the city. 

I stopped going out with Tiffanie. It was too risky. Tiffanie was young. Some 19 years old and she didn't like spending weekends indoors. She would go out with her friends and when I knew it was safe, I would slide out to the city and see what I could get into. After a while, the whispers that the girls would tell me turned into a constant shout in my head.

You can have any girl you want. You may never have this opportunity again. 

Tiffanie was visibly unhappy. I knew what the problem was but I didn't care to fix it. She came by less and less. Called even fewer times. And finally, the fire between us had extinguished. I was free to do what I wanted to do from the very start.

Bang hot chicks...

I began to go out every night. I changed the hours of the day that I would operate in order to accommodate my Rock Star lifestyle. I would go to work every morning at 7, workout and take a shower. I would then work until 5 and go home. I would go to sleep immediately. Wake up at 1 or 2 in the morning and hit the streets. I would leave the club or bar at 6 or 7 in the morning and catch a train to work to repeat the cycle.

Madrid did not lack for something to do and every night a different club was open. La Fontana de Oro on Monday's, Joy Eslava on Tuesday's, Orange Cafe on Wednesday's, Kapital on Thursday's, bar hopping on Friday's, Pacha and Lokua on Saturday's, and Serrano 41 on Sunday's. I became popular around town with other party goers. I gained Spanish friends and would also frequented house parties. 

Since my apartment was in the center of Madrid, I was always in walking distance from my house. After a few shots of tequila, women were more inclined to see the American who lived in  a very expensive part of the city. I can't even remember their names. Who's-her-face, What's-her-name, Mami were all too common of names. 

This was awesome.

One day I received a message from a girl on Myspace. She said that she seen me around town and she wanted to go out with me tonight. I agreed to meet her in Plaza Mayor in the district of Sol. 

Plaza Mayor was one of my favorite places in Madrid. It was a huge square in the center of the city with many street performers and restaurants. Almost 500 years ago, the Spanish Inquisition would march people in the center of the square and give them two choices. Catholicism or death. Those who chose the former would be able to leave. Those who chose the latter would be killed right there on the spot. Hundreds of thousands of people died here. They say if you look close enough, you can still see the blood of those who stood by their faith.

That's when I saw her. Long, curly, brown hair, Light-skinned, and the body of an athlete. 

Her name was Emma.

Emma

We spoke in English and I was surprised by how good her English was. She said that since she was Armenian (the same race as Kim K.), languages came easy to her because her language had a lot of sounds. She was also a dancer. Not a stripper, but a dancer who would dance in theatre shows, hip-hop music videos, and sometimes go-go at clubs. I soon realized that music was her life. 

We went to Joy Eslava that night. I was immediately approached by a group of Spanish groupies (I started calling them that) and they invited me for shots. I looked at Emma and saw a look of anger flash on her face. I told the girls no thanks.

I asked her what was the problem. She said that I could go have fun with those girls and that she would go home. I told her not to be silly and that I came with her and I'll leave with her. She said that she had a boyfriend and I didn't have to worry about her.

I convinced her to stay and we had a great time enjoying each other's company. She went home and I went to work after it was all said and done. On the train ride to work, some questions were on my mind.

Why would she contact me if she had a boyfriend? And what right does she have to get jealous of me when she's fucking someone else? 

I didn't call Emma for a while. I liked how I was living and the last thing I needed was a jealous girl messing up a good thing. I still couldn't get her out of my mind though. It felt good to speak in English. I had become so emerged in Spanish culture, that I was forgetting how my own language sounded on my tongue. I should call her.

She beat me to it. She said she was in the mall by my house and wanted to see me. I gave her directions and soon she was buzzing at the door. She was beautiful. she was wearing a tight black tank top, some Timberland boots, and jeans that made me take a double take as I led her through the front door. 

In my living room, I asked about her boyfriend. She said that he was her soon to be ex-boyfriend. When I asked her why, she said that he wasn't a good man and that he physically abused her sometimes. I told her that I would never abuse her as I moved closer to her. She leaned in and asked, "Really?" 

"Of course not," I responded as I tasted her lips for the first time. Her lip gloss was sweet. I grabbed her hand and led her to the bedroom. She showed a slight hint of reluctance. I caressed her and told her that everything would be Ok. She followed suit after that. 

There is nothing like sleeping with a cheating woman. I never knew if it was conviction that I felt for sleeping with her or pride that I was able to. It didn't matter anyway.

A week later Emma invited me to one of her performances. It was amazing. Male and female dancers pulling off amazing feats and movements. I couldn't take my eyes off Emma. I was in the front row, and she was spectacular. Sexy and rhythmic.  I remember feeling a pang of jealousy as her and a well-sculpted male dancer had a sexy dance scene. Why do I feel this way, it's not real. And I don't want to be her man.

She finally broke up with her boyfriend and I became more infatuated with her. I liked spending time with her. I quickly learned not to take her to the clubs I frequented because she would be blinded by rage at the slightest hint of flirting by me or another woman. She would attempt to walk out or turn her back to me. I would always run up and try to assure her that I was there for her and not the groupies. 

After a month of shacking up, we decided to put a title on our relationship. We survived for months and were fairly happy. It would be difficult at times because she was always accusing me of cheating. One time she found an empty condom wrapper under my bed. I explained to her that it was from before I met her and I didn't know it was there. We argued all night with her constantly threatening to leave. It was frustrating being with a woman who constantly accused me of cheating when I honestly wasn't.

For Valentines day, we went to the town of Jaca in the Pyrenees Mountains on the border of France. We skied for the first time in our lives. She was so cute in her makeshift ski outfit that I had thrown together for us. That night we went to the town to find a nice romantic dinner. The town of Jaca was very small but it had a nice feel about it. It was like one giant castle because all the streets were cobblestone. We were disappointed that all the restaurants were sold out for Vday. We managed to find one restaurant that looked like a small tavern. They cooked the meat halfway and brought it out  fresh off the grill on a cast-iron skillet. We were given utensils and we cooked the rest of the meat to our liking. It was the best Valentines day dinner I ever had.

After the meal we decided to go out for drinks. We found a club and we drank multiple shots of tequila. There was a beautiful girl working at the bar and Emma saw me looking at her. She immediately stormed out. Here we go again.

"Baby where are you going?"

"You go back and get your blond with long legs and big breasts!"

"If I wanted that bitch, I wouldn't come all the way to Jaca Fucking Spain with you! Can we have one night without you doing this?"

"You can have every night because this is the last time I go through this with you!"

We argued all the way back to the hotel. The tequila shots fueled our rage. She slapped me and I opened the door and tossed her out the hotel room. She fell on her stomach and started crying.

What have I done. You never get this mad at women Gavin. Normally you can ignore them.

I picked her up in my arms and carried her back inside while telling her how sorry I was. We kissed and I can taste the salt of her tears. I felt so bad. I promised her that I would never get that angry again. She told me she loved me and I repeated the words. 

Happy Valentines Day.

Once back in Madrid, we were back to business as usual. She continued to be jealous but I made sure never to let my temper get the best of me. I started find myself getting jealous of her. I mean she met me when she had a boyfriend, so she might seek someone else out again like she did with me. I started going through her phone and checking her Myspace when she left it up while she used the bathroom. We had been together for some 9 months and we didn't trust each other.

One night, Emma and I went to a bar with my American military friend Chuck. Chuck was a big guy to say the least. We were drinking and I went to the bar to get another round. At the bar, I found myself next to a woman and I realized she was struggling with her drink order. I asked her, "What do you want?"

"Just two beers and a shot of vodka," she said in perfect American English.

An American

"Dos cerveza y un chupito de vodka por favor."

The bartender returned with the drinks and the American girl thanked me. All I could remember after that was the blinding pain that followed the beer bottle exploding on my head. I went to the ground and I realized that I was being kicked. I got up quickly to defend myself. I grabbed my assailant by the neck and pushed the the perpetrator to the wall.

Her name was Emma..

She kicked and screamed and next thing I know, Chuck was grabbing me and pushing me against the wall. Yelling at me to never hit a female. I told him to get off me and I grabbed Emma and left. We argued all the way home. I told her to leave. That I never wanted to see her again. She left.

Emma, Chuck, and I at Emma's Birthday dinner

Chuck told people about the incident and rumors were circulating at my job that I was some kind of woman-beater. I tried my best to denounce these rumors but it was too little, too late.

I don't care what they think. I only care about Emma. I wonder if she wasn't completely honest about how her ex-boyfriend was abusive and she brought that part out of him like she brought it out of me. Where is she?

I moped around feeling sorry for myself and was constantly thinking about Emma. I started going by places that she frequented, hoping to see her. I sent her emails apologizing, but she never responded. She was gone. 

Alcohol became my best friend. Jack Daniels understood what I was going through and would always listen to me. Jim Bean would get me worked up and would remind me that I didn't need her. Jose would make me forget about her, but when he left, the girl returned to my mind. 

Her name was Emma.

Emma

Part 2 "Seduccion"

Things couldn't be better. Tiffanie was by my side and I had become to really take a liking to my new home in a foreign world. After two months, I was close to closing on an apartment and was finally about to stop living out of a suit case.

Work was coming along very well and I started to make friends. One day a few of the older guys invited me out. We went to the Dominican and Colombian district of the city called Cuatro Caminos (Four Paths). If Madrid had a ghetto, then this was it. Dominicans are just as dark as black people and I could sense the illegal activity in the area. We went to a bar/restaurant where I was introduced to 3 girls. I can only remember the long-legged, model-like, Puerto Rican/Spanish girl that spoke English with a strange aurora of danger about her.

Her name was Maria...

Maria

We drank, danced, and laughed. The girls asked if we would like to come back to an apartment and hang out. We agreed. The apartment was small and cramped. We sat and listened to Spanish music. That's when Maria pulled out the marijuana. I was in the military and I hadn't done drugs in almost 3 years, but that was largely due to me not being around it. She rolled a joint, handed it to me, and said, "Toma!" (Take it!). I took it, inhaled, and felt a sensation that I hadn't felt since I was a teenager. She smiled a smile at me that seemed to hint more intentions.

Maria then said that she wanted to go back out but not to Cuatro Camino. No one else wanted to go out, so I saw an opportunity. "We can go to Lokua in Principe Pio," I heard myself say. She agreed. Maria and I got into her car and I had the ride of my life. She raced down the narrow streets of Madrid with no care, blasting Daddy Yankee, honking, and screaming at other people the entire way. Thank God Spanish cars have seat belts.

We arrived at the club and it was closed (as it always is on Friday's. hehehe). As we are standing there, she turned to me and asked casually in a foreign accent, "Where do you live?"

"Three blocks up the street."

"Vamos..."

We arrive at the hotel and we drifted through the lobby high, drunk, and lustful the entire way to the room. She walks in and looks around with one quick glance and tells me to turn on some music. Luckily I had some popular Spanish music on my laptop thanks to another friend.

Her name was Tiffanie...

She pushed me on the bed and as she was towering above, she began to strip. And when she was down to only her bra and panties, the lamplight reflected on her long, perfect, slender figure. I can see she works out.


I awoke to her face that next morning. It was picture perfect, even as she slept. My head was pounding and I was trying to shake off the weariness that comes with marijuana withdrawal. That's when I came back to reality.

Why did you smoke weed last night you fool? What if you're drug-tested? Why did you go home with her? She is obviously no good for me. What about ......

In that moment Maria woke up as if she could hear my thoughts. She looked at me, smiled and said a word that made me forget about everything else once again,

"Ven" (Come).

Her name was Maria.

Weeks later, I closed on my 3 bedroom, 2 bath apartment in Principe Pio and moved in. Tiffanie helped me. We went to the store and bought all the cleaning products and household goods that I would need. She is a good girl. Tiffanie lived in  a town called Fuenlabrada which was an hour bus ride outside of Madrid, Spain. So when she came over, it was usually for the night and I never complained.

When I would awake in the morning, I would let her sleep in and when I returned home all the dishes were washed, my bed was made, and everything was organized. One night while strolling through the park she says to me, "Te quiero Gavin." In English, I respond, "I love you too". And I did love her. She was always there for me. It was always fun talking to her because, even though we didn't know all the right words, we never had problems understanding each other. Between Spanish class and Tiffanie, I could already speak a couple hundred words and I could handle myself in many situations where Spanish was involved.

But I wasn't sure if that was what I wanted. I was 21 years old, in a foreign country, and beautiful women were practically throwing themselves at the exotic Americans. It's only a matter of time before I'm tempted yet again. I could never bring her back to America without marrying her; and when it came to marriage, I could only think of the last thing my father said to me before I left home.

Don't get married and don't have any kids.

But I didn't want her to go. I just wanted to see other women too. So I did what many men before me have done and continue to do. I lied to her, and felt terrible every single time. She doesn't deserve that.

Maria and I saw each other sparingly. She came to my apartment a few times and we would smoke and drink and lie together. She was everything Tiffanie wasn't. Where Tiffanie was good and had values, Maria was dangerous and was morally bankrupt. Where Tiffanie would cook and clean, Maria would prefer to not to play house and provoke me into the bedroom. Where Tiffanie was obviously safer and good for me, Maria was dangerous and could cost me a lot. It wasn't love that I felt for Maria, it was lust.

Maria

One Saturday night Tiffanie and Ronald Shuler were at my apartment. Ronald and I were to go out to 7 story club called Kapital. Tiffanie was going to go home. Then I hear someone ringing from the street to buzz them in. I went to go see who it was.

Shit.

I went downstairs.

"What are you doing here Maria?", I asked her annoyingly.

"What? You no love me no more? We go to Kapital and I want see you."

"You can't just show up without calling. You have to go."

"I have to go, do I? Esta muchacho. I want to use the bathroom."

 What could I say? If I said no, then she would be more suspicious than she already is. If I said yes, then Tiffanie might see her.

Shit. 

Maybe I can have my cake and eat it too. I do have a bathroom in the first part of the apartment, and as long as she doesn't walk into the living room, Tiffanie shouldn't see her.

"Ok come on."

We exited the elevator and I opened the door to my apartment. The bathroom was the 2nd door on the right and I stood by it to instruct Maria to use that one. She brushed by me and I was helpless to stop her from entering the living room. She walked in, made direct eye contact with Tiffanie, turned around without a word, and exited the apartment without using the bathroom.

She tricked me.

Tiffanie jumped up, grabbed her coat, and walked to the door as it closed. She looked through the peep hole and asked when were we leaving for the club. Great, now she is coming too. I can't say that we aren't going now, or else she would know that something was up. FML...

Ronald, Tiffanie, and I arrived at Kapital. It was large enough, and I convinced myself that we could avoid Maria. This club is the largest club in Madrid. Capable of reaching a capacity of 6,000 people. Each floor had a different genre of music. Techno on the ground floor, Pop on the second, Karaoke on the third, Reggaeton on the 5th, Hip-hop on the 6th, and a hooka lounge/VIP area on the top floor. We went the hip-hop floor and so far, I saw no sign of Maria.

Club Kapital (Madrid, Spain)

While dancing and drinking, that is when I spotted Maria in the corner with her posse.

OMG this isn't happening. 

They came directly to me with Tiffanie grinding on me. All the girls exchanged looks and Maria elegantly states, "You're not going to introduce us". I did and tried to grab Tiffanie to take her elsewhere. She shook my hand off and began speaking to Maria in Spanish. They were speaking so fast that I couldn't follow what they were saying. This isn't good.

After 5 minutes of conversing, Tiffanie looked at me and grabbed my hand to go to the dance floor. Maybe Maria kept her cool and didn't say anything. Tiffanie and I were dancing as Maria came up behind me. She started to run her and hand up my back. I swatted it away grateful that Tiffanie had her backside to me. Maria started fidgeting with my belt loop and I turned to her and said, "Stop It!" She kissed me full in the mouth. I pulled away terrified simultaneously wiping red lipstick from my mouth. She said, "You no like threesome?"

This bitch is crazy.

I grabbed Tiffanie and tried to walk out. She noticed Maria for the first time and they spoke again. I still couldn't understand, but Tiffanie turned to me and said, "VIP". God why is this happening to me.

VIP was the last place I wanted to be. There you could sit and talk with the music low on luxurious white furniture while smoking flavored tobacco from a over-sized Hookah . It was a nightmare.
In VIP the girls talked as if they were life-long friends. Laughing, smiling, and hugging as I sat there chugging Johnny Walker red label likes it's going out of stock. Maybe if I don't say anything, they will forget I'm here. Maria flashed me a smile and pulled out her phone as to give Tiffanie her phone number. NO! I jumped up and said it was time to go. Tiffanie and I left that instant. Ronald would be ok on his own. He did leave me at the Starbucks that day anyway.

Once home, Tiffanie and I undressed and laid in the bed. As I reached to turn the lamp off, she whispered my name.

"Gavin"

"Si mi amor"

She said that she wasn't stupid. Maria told her everything. She said that Maria said that we met when I lived at the hotel and that she had been to this apartment (there was something about how she said this apartment that I'll never forget). I had no response. She said that she understood. That I was young, in a new place, and I couldn't help myself. She wasn't mad. She asked me not to lie to her because she knows when I'm lying. I agreed in a fashion not unlike a scolded child.

"Me amas todavia?" (Do you still love me?) I asked her.

"Claro que si baby. Tu eres mi novio y soy tu novia para siempre" (Of course I do baby. You are my boyfriend and I am your girlfriend forever).

She fell asleep in my arms that night.

I saw Maria the next day at the famous Retiro Park in Madrid. It was 300 acres big and hundreds of years ago, it was where the Spanish Royal family would take their retreats from the woes of life. I felt this place was perfect for retreating from my woe.

I told her how I didn't like how she had been acting and someone could have gotten seriously hurt. She said that I was a big boy and that I knew exactly what I was doing. I had no one to blame but myself.

She had a point.

Desperate to end this conversation, I told her that I wasn't leaving Tiffanie and that I couldn't see her anymore.

Maria then moved extremely close to me, in a seductive manner, and kissed me right on my lips. When we broke away, she whispered, "Your loss" and vanished. I stood there wondering if I made the right decision.

 The Maria Experience was over for now. Somehow I managed to keep the one girl that was more important. What I did was wrong and she still stuck by me. I can't make her feel that away again. She is all I need.
So what if I lost the dangerous, unpredictable girl. I still had the girl of my dreams and even through the language barrier she understood me more than I the English-speaking boriqua ever could. If she was upset about the other girl, she never expressed it to me. We continued along our relationship despite our encounter with temptation and deception.

Her name was Maria.

"Benvenido"

In September of 2008 I departed from Columbia, SC to my new home in Madrid, Spain. I just finished a year in the Middle-East and I was excited to go to a place where I can actually have fun. I turned 21 in Baghdad and I never had a chance to celebrate my coming of age. I didn't know what to expect in Spain. In fact, the only thing I knew about Spain was bullfights. 


When I touched down, I met my sponsor/boss Ronald Shuler. He was a few years older than me and seem pretty cool. After checking into the hotel that I was now to call my home until I found an apartment, we walked around and saw the sights. Ronald told me about how relaxed the job was and that I would have plenty of money and that Spanish girls love Americans. 

Cool.

That night we went to club Lokua in the Principe Pio district of Spain. It was awesome. Beautiful women, drinks, and I was in heaven. I was dancing with a gorgeous Spanish girl and she kept smiling at me and grabbing me to come closer. When I tried to speak to her, she just looked at me and smiled. Shit. She doesn't speak English. And I know absolutely no Spanish. All I could do was walk away. I vowed then and there that that would be the last time me not speaking the language would ever stop me from getting the girl. 

The next day Ronald came by and got me for lunch. We walked to Plaza de Espana and ironically ate at a Burger King (lol). 

That's where I saw her. 

About 5 foot 2 wearing heels, caramel skin, a bright orange afro, a yellow summertime dress and the the prettiest face I ever seen. I was in love. She was sitting at the table adjacent from us with an older woman. I said to Ronald, "If I had her, I would die happy".  He laughed. The girls left the restaurant and I knew that she was gone forever. But with some luck, they sat on the bench right outside and they smoked a cigarette. 

I still have a chance! But what would I say? It's the Spanish girl from the club incident all over again.

Ronald goes and approaches them. He spoke terrible Spanish but it was enough to engage them. I was forced to stand there pitifully not knowing what words were being exchanged. At the end, Ronald walks away with her phone number and I walked away wanting to punch him in the face. He said that the older lady was her mother. She wanted to hang out with us sometime next week. 

Great now I have to watch this asshole steal my woman. Her name was Tiffanie (Tee-Fawn-Knee)

Tiffanie

One week and Spain had come and gone. I went out a few more times and everything was perfect as I forgot all about the girl I fell in love with in Burger King. I had since enrolled in Spanish class everyday after work and I was making some progress in Spanish. Then on a Saturday I get a call on my hotel phone. 

"Gavin?"

"Ummmm Si?"

"Soy Tiffanie, como estas?"

In a 90 second awkward phone conversation, I understood one thing. That she wanted me to meet her in Plaza de Espana at a statue in 1 hour with Ronald. I called Ronald and he said that he gave her my number that first day and that he would come and get me shortly. The day had arrived....

Ronald and I arrived at Plaza de Espana and there she was just as beautiful as I last saw her. We said the greeting and did the Spanish custom of kissing on the cheeks (this was difficult for me). We walked to a Starbucks and I practiced what little Spanish I knew and she seemed impressed. Ronald was not.

He went outside to take a phone call and after 5 minutes, we couldn't find him anywhere. OMG!!

So here I am in the middle of the largest city in Spain, in the busiest district of Spain, with a beautiful Spaniard that doesn't speak two words of English. I reached for my pocket dictionary that I became accustomed to carrying and managed to ask her if she could show me some sights. She agreed and we managed to communicate with hand signals and frequent turns of the dictionary pages on both of our parts. She laughed at my efforts and I love being around her so much that I didn't care anymore how bad I was at Spanish. We spent hours together that day and even ate dinner at an Indian restaurant. Then we parted ways.

Did I really just pull that off? She seemed to enjoy herself and she had to like me or else she would have left. But it wasn't really flirty. I never touched her. Maybe I just landed myself in the friend zone? Damn it.

As the weeks went by I saw Tiffanie more and more. My Spanish was improving drastically and I was able communicate to her my thoughts much better. Then one day after dinner I invited her back to my hotel room for drinks. We still never had any physical interaction (not even a hug) and I was getting more desperate for her to notice me. I finally got the liquid courage to tell her that I liked her as more than friends. She just looked at me.

No....I ruined it.

She got up slowly, walked over to me, and sat in my lap. She then gave me the best first kiss I ever had in my 21 years on this Earth. We floated to the bed and as I took of my shirt she said "No." 

Oh no... Did I move to fast. Why did I have to take my shirt off? You fool!

She explained that she was on her period. I said that that was OK, being more grateful that I didn't push her away and that I moved from that friend zone. Two days later she came to my hotel again. She wanted to go do something and I told her that I needed to take a shower. While in the shower I heard the door to the bathroom open. I moved the curtain and there she stood wearing nothing but that pretty smile of hers. She told me to make room. 

Tiffanie

I really liked her and she liked me. I got the girl of my dreams but I wasn't happy like I thought I would be. We were heading into a full fledged relationship, but a thought was on my mind,

Do I really want to be a one-woman man when I just arrived in Spain?

Her name was Tiffanie....

Tiffanie and I with our trusted dictionary (2008)