Curb your enthusiasm, the lost episode

PART 1 July 31st 2008

Like so many other Brazilians, her low-cut shirt showed off her shapely, tanned lower-back accented by two prominent equidistant dimples which cradled her spine. As I was chaining up my bike at 8:00 in the morning she was entering the florist shop next door and we locked eyes. I said hello and went and taught my first class of the morning, which consisted of showing Curb Your Enthusiasm and stopping ever minute or so to have my students regurgitate the sophisticatedly superior American humor which their soap operas, Mad-TVesque sketch comedy shows and predictable sitcoms have not prepared them for.
After class was over I talked myself into stopping in the florist store to feign interest in buying a plant. She came and reluctantly attended to me. She told me her name, El-ee-A-Nee. I pretended to understand however the bizarre combination of vowels and consonants didn't sound remotely familiar. We made chit chat I went in for the standard kiss on the cheek greeting and she forthrightly told me that it was inappropriate for the setting. Shot. Down. I asked her what she did when she wasn't working, she told me she had just moved to the city, and spent most of her free time on the internet. I thought to myself If she frequents backgammon forums, NPR podcasts and the occasional latin porn site this courtship just might work. I told her that we should get together that night and she hesitantly accepted. I figured this would just another one of the many promises Brazilians are so keen to break.
Later that evening I left my class and there she was, as promised, waiting for me with her 3-inch soled shoes. (Clarification: The 3-Inch Soled shoes weren't part of the promise, but nevertheless were a welcome surprise.) She gave me a brief tour of the florist shop which I was hoping would turn into a horticultural related romance scene. Unfortunately it did not. She said the accountant was there or something, anyways garden sheers aren't that sexy. We went to BIG, the Brazilian Wal-Mart where i quickly noticed that the wall she had put up in the florist store earlier that day had been taken down. I'm not sure what the give away was but it might have been making out in the school supplies aisle. I offered to buy her anything in the store that was under R$3.50, like 2 bucks. She decided on chocolate on the double. (Don't worry she's not a big chick, that phase of my life is behind me.) For anybody interested starting a date out at Target, or Wal-Mart is a winner.
We went to Midnight a local pool hall, where she got her ass whooped by yours truly. 5-0. I probably should have let her win at least one, but in the spirit of the upcoming Olympics one must represent. In fact I've resorted to wearing the same tattered,beer-stained USA: We Speak English, novelty t-shirt on a daily basis. Between the impromptu make out sessions and the billiard onslaught i noticed she was a bit of an aggressive kisser, in fact she was purposely biting me. It dawned on me that she wasn't the first to do this, nearly every single Brazilian girl, (and transvestite that passed as one) had done the same exact thing. It got a little painful at times. I told her that if she was going to continue doing this be ready for when it's my turn and she provocatively responded , "now you're speaking my language." She later in a fit of rage slammed her palm on the table, drawing blood. When I expressed my concern and she told me not to worry as she was in fact rather fond of blood. We paid the tab, or rather I paid the tab as she conveniently dipped out to the bathroom as we were about to pay. I tell you florists are all the same.
As I was walking her home she requested that if I hadn't already mentioned out date to any co-workers that I refrain from doing so. Suddenly she frogmarched me down an alley where an intense canoodling session ensued. I asked my roommate about this biting peculiarity and he told me that I got off lucky, one time a girl bit him so hard he started bleeding.
I got a few drinks the following Friday with some colleagues from work and after tossing a few beers back I couldn't help but resisting to tell the story to my co-workers.

PART 2 August 2008

I went back to the flower store a few days later and asked her to go out that upcoming weekend. She smiled and cheerfully accepted, however when the day of the date arrived she stood me up. I wrote off this occurrence as another consequence of the unreliability of Brazilian honesty. A few days later I saw her at the supermarket and she cut in line 30 spaces to come and talk with me. We both paid for our items and when she pulled out her credit card to pay I didn't recognize the polish last name on the front. I asked her, "I thought you were Italian?" She logically responded that is was her daughter's savings account, and that her ex-husband was of polish ancestry. I was a little heated, I grilled her as to why she didn't mention that she had a 7 year old daughter nor an ex-husband. She told me that if I had asked she would have told me. DUH. Anyways she told me that she couldn't see me again and that she was sorry that night she had stood me up. I asked her why she couldn't see me again and she responded that she had a boyfriend, and he happened to be my boss. I thought this was but an over the top ploy to get rid of me but nonetheless I obliged to take a step back as I'm not really ready to be a Step-Dad to a pain loving mama.

PART 3 October 7, 2008

I had all but forgotten about my brief romance. I had seen her from time to time on my way to work but had largely put her out of my mind. As I was fuming and typing away at my blog which described being accused of hitting on my pupil my boss walked in with an awkward question. Generally if you give my boss the chance, he'll talk your ear off. He's a really nice guy, but we've all got responsibilities and he has the tendency of deeply wounding free time. Anyways when he approached me with this particular inquiry I was already having a less than ideal day and he came right out and asked me if I was still dating the girl from the flower shop downstairs. Without mincing any words I told him that we'd had a date but that it hadn't been anything more than that. He frankly explained to me that in fact he was dating the girl and had been dating her for the past year. He wasn't upset with me, I believe he was looking to vindicate himself from the accusations this girl was throwing in his face. She'd had suspicions that he'd been dating his students and he was looking to fling some mud back in her direction. I assume that I was only but a simple pawn in this love triangle. He said it was no problem and that he'd appreciated the honesty.
The next day as I was outside of the school drinking a water chatting with one of my students when sure enough she stormed up to the school with a sour look on her face. She darted at me like a missile and demanded to talk to me. I told her that I couldn't, that I was working but she wouldn't hear it. She sequestered me off in the corner and my student absolved himself from the situation. She harangued me as to how I could be so insensitive to tell my co-workers. She cursed me as to how I had ruined her relationship. She commanded me to look up idiot in a dictionary and I would find myself there. Harsh! I generally allow my Portuguese to mysteriously disappear in these confrontational situations. If you play deaf and dumb it generally works. Anyways I let her get the final word and she stomped off. My student acted as if nothing had happened and I just had to laugh.