My tender youth, when old drunk guys dug me

Evidently yesterday's post about my stalker unleashed some more memories, because this morning I spent my drive to the office reminiscing about two drunk creeps that had the hots for me on separate ocassions when I was 17 and 18 years old. I guess in their drunken stupor they must have found me quite fetching.

The first old drunk guy hit on me the night of my senior prom, which took place at the old Dupont Plaza Hotel in Condado, Puerto Rico. Speaking of the Dupont Plaza, if the name rings no bells, click on the link and learn about a dark chapter in Puerto Rican history, which took place months after my senior prom, and which claimed the life of the father of one of our childhood friends, among others.

But I digress. If you visit my blog, you have already had the wonderful opportunity to glance at my senior prom pic. So you know what I looked like that night. If you haven't seen it or have wiped it from your memory (and who wouldn't?) allow me to share with you again my big-nosed, raccoon-eyed, gigantic-earring, curtain-of-hair splendor. I mean, look at that! How could the poor middle-aged drunken Cuban guy who hit on me could resist?

The night of my senior prom we had booked a hotel room so we did not have to drive home. I did not have a date (well, my mom was my date, can you say loser?) and I hated most people in my graduating class, so I drifted in and out of the ballroom and just wandered around the hotel. I think my mom retired to bed early and I decided to ditch the prom and hang out with my brother and sister-in-law so I could drink and smoke. The legal drinking age in Puerto Rico is 18, by the way (although I was off by one year). There was a bar & night club up in the last floor of the hotel and a group called Las Mariposas was doing a show there. It was two guys doing funny songs and imitations.

I was sitting at the bar with my brother and sister-in-law, having a drink, smoking a cigarrette and feeling all grown up when this forty-something guy stumbled up to me and said in a very thick Cuban accent: "oye, ¿tú eres de verdad o de mentira?" (which loosely translates as are you real, or just an illusion?). Great. The guy asked my name and wanted me to sit and have a drink with him. No fucking way. And he would not give up. At some point he looked at me and he said "Ingrid, estás destinada a ser real." (you are destined to be real.) Give me a break, how corny can you get? I don't know how I did it, but I managed to escape.

The second drunken creepy guy who was charmed by my greek goddess looks followed me in his car from Bounty Steakhouse in Santurce all the way to the campus of the University of Puerto Rico in Río Piedras. I had lunch there with my sister in law, and after I dropped her off I realized I had left my umbrella at the restaurant, so I drove back to get it. The old drunk was sitting at the bar and he brightened as soon as he saw me. He tried to pick me up and kept on saying "mi amor", but I was in a hurry and brushed him off quite brusquely. I guess he liked women who played hard to get, because the asshole jumped in his car as soon as I left and must have spent about 20 minutes chasing my car, doing his utmost not to veer into incoming traffic.

I made it to the UPR and was about to park next to the museum when the drunken fool blocked the parking spot with his car while yelling "Mi amor, te vengo siguiendo desde Bounty." (my love, I've been following you from Bounty-the restaurant). While the Cuban guy at the Dupont Plaza annoyed me, this guy was a bona fide stalker. Who knows what his intentions were. As you can imagine, he scared me to death, so I drove off in search of the first campus cop I could find. Luckily, I did not have to look far, and the guy disappeared.