The Price of Beauty.

Being beautiful isn't always sugar coated candy treats and pink lemonade. Sometimes, being graced with a defined jawline, naturally golden hair (with curls), a 30 size waist in Diesel jeans and unique eye coloring can still cause ugliness to enter your life. I know this because my good looks have recently invited such trouble.

Not too long ago, a new cafe opened up close to one of the places I teach. I'm forever going to Starbucks but only because I really don't have that many other alternatives. So I was glad to discover a new indie coffee place that was easy for me to get to. I went in and there was this very attractive guy working there. I started small talk, because I am a people person, and he instantly seemed way too interested. I was excited because I thought we were gonna be boyfriends. Then he introduced me to his OK looking wife. Quickly, I chalked him up as just another Mexican trying to practice his English and I was alright with that because he was a little to light skinned for my liking.

I went to the coffee shop a few more times and each encounter he seemed more into me. He invited me to a lunch, and I declined but he insisted so I finally broke down and accepted. I told him it would be difficult because I'm a vegetarian and he said it was no problem since his wife would make it. He said this in front of her and she replied with a "WHAT!". Awkward! Against my will and better judgement, I went to lunch the next day. Mashed potatoes, veggie salad, seasoned rice and quesadillas, the lunch was very good. The entire time Fernando (I swear that is his name) made insulting remarks to his OK looking wife by saying that his mom is a better cook. Meanwhile she just sent evil glares in my direction.

He tricked me into playing squash with him the following Sunday, once again, against my will. He sets me up and puts me in these situations I find difficult to escape. I told him to call me to confirm the day before and I thought if I just don´t answer his call, I wouldn't have to go. After the third time he called, he sent me a text:

"Hi, i call you 3 times but you don't answear, is only for confirm. Sqash tomorrow? You can go or not? ."

The little Christian inside me felt guilty and the gay boy inside me felt like a coward so I replied back and confirmed.

He wanted to meet at 7:40am on Sunday morning which is insane because it is my day off and I ended up staying out till 4am the previous night. With only 2 hours of sleep, I intentionally showed up to his cafe 20 minutes late and didn't apologize. I was hoping he would hate me and not want to be my friend anymore. Instead, he was waiting in his car and looking sad and it only made me feel more guilty.

We played squash for about 3 hours with his normal friends and I actually had a nice time. The only weird thing is that whenever we took breaks, Fernando would wander off to another court filled with shirtless men and gawk.

Things went back to being weird and awkward when the game was over as he drove me back home. The conversation went something like this:

F "Charlie, you are different."
C "Oh."
F "You are not like other people."
C "Is this good or bad."
F "Very good, I know a lot of Americans and you are not like them."
C "Ok, thanks.."

He invited me back to his cafe to make me breakfast but I told him I had promised my roommate that I would help clean the apartment. When we got to my street he asked when we were gonna see each other again. I told him I did´t know and ran away before he could open his mouth again.

If I had an average face, none of this would have happened. Momma was right, why wasn't I born rich instead of beautiful.