The Green Screen

Since there are so few cuentas posted anymore, I copied this from Cuba Junky site. (where, btw, there’s a bunch of our former scribe Lurker’s prose & a bit of spice from our former hot tamale Bridget)

Okay gentle Gs’ers, sure you have luv advice for Veronica here. But look at the obstacles overcome! She doesn't give her age, but she’s dealing with the heartbreak of fake dientes & obsession with meeting a BLACK latino. uh-oh. Could be trouble ahead, if things get rowdy & raucous. Wonder what happened to this English miss & her Miguelito? Did lusty amor triumph after all? Or was it only his dance moves & then her teeth clattered to the piso & broke the spell? Does she remain only "half a woman?"
If only Autumn Q was back, she knew how to dish out couples consul. Wish one of you wags would write a happy ending…

CUBA…when I fell for a Cuban.

By Veronica

So..her I am. Getting ready to go to Cuba…again! I keep saying I am in love with the island…no…reality is… I am in love with a Cuban. That is VERY different. In a way, I am connected to Cuba. The music…if they weren’t so poor, they wouldn’t probably dance so much…music keeps them going. Music keeps ME going. All the frustration at work fades away when I dance…but not just “dance”. I mean salsear…and to be able to salsear one must dance with a Cuban.
No one in the world moves the way they do. Their bodies. Their fantastic and amazing bodies. Both, men and girls have enviable figures and how they shake their hips and make you move yours.
My Cuban experience was incomplete. I had just started to see Cuba when it was time to go back home. This time, things will be very different.
I am meeting Miguel. The man that makes me tremble every time we speak on the phone. He calls me “mami”…most Cuban use that word but I still find it special. I am tempted to call him “papi” but it would just sound unnatural. I don’t know how to call him….
I remember when we met. Just a bit more than 4 months ago. December 2006. Havana. On the dance floor…but we hadn’t danced yet. I normally “fall in love” after they have danced with me…I fall in love with their dancing…this time it was different. When I came back from the ladies, my friend was talking to him…talking? half-talking. She couldn’t speak Spanish, he couldn’t speak English. I became the translator. I think it became too much for him. Couldn’t say all he wanted to her and resorted to talking to me only. I would still translate in case she felt out of the conversation.
After a few minutes, I was totally comfortable in his company but…I couldn’t trust a Cuban. Never. I lied. Told him I was married. In that way, I felt more protected. Some guys came to our table and asked if we would dance. He nodded as a sign of approval “but only her”, indicating he was “working” on me…mmm So I was not “allowed” to dance. It felt good. We stayed there and watched my friend dance. We carried on chatting and at some point he said I wasn’t so attractive but that I had “something”…then he said…although you are very small…you still have something. Would you like to come with me tomorrow morning? We are filming a video for a regaetton group.…”I cant” I replied. “My friend has got a problem with her VISA and we have to sort it out tomorrow morning. I will come here tomorrow”..“you won’t” he said.

Later, I left to go and buy water. I was getting worried after hearing so many stories about Cubans who want tourists to buy them drinks, etc.

I didn’t return to the table. On the way back, I met another Cuban who wanted to dance. He wasn’t fantastic but I danced with him pretending I had no clue of how to dance. He “taught” me how to move and even said I was a fast learner. “Whatever”, I thought. I spoke in English only. By now, my friend and I were tired of being asked for drinks , etc. It was easier if they couldn’t speak to us.
The only problem with pretending was that I couldn’t sing in Spanish….I sing the songs I am dancing to….it’s a tick I can’t help.

After a few songs, Miguel reappeared. We were sitting at a different table. He sat next to my friend and suggested we played a game. She would tell him things in Spanish I would whisper in her ear. So…I asked her to say “tienes unos ojos muy bonitos” (you’ve got beautiful eyes). He then replied other things I can’t remember now.
There was more music but I didn’t dance. Then some regaetton, he is a fantastic dancer. Oh my god. I saw him dance. I fell in love…with the dancing.

Once again,I left. I went to the bar to buy more water. I was counting my money when he reappeared. $1 CUC he said. I said, No..I’ll pay in Cuban pesos. No…you are a tourist and must pay in CUC. I ignored him and still tried to use Cuban currency. The waiter refused and I ended up paying as Miguel had said.
“You see”, he told me, “ I was right”. We started chatting at the bar. He asked me why I kept running away from him. “Are you scared of me?” he asked. “Oh, I know. You are annoyed because of something I said”. Mmm. I think I was scared but not of him. I was scared of him finding out I had false teeth, of him getting too close and not liking my skin, I don’t know…I was just not ready I wasn’t in “flirting” mode.

Then he went on ….”Whose idea was that about my beautiful eyes?”…I said it had been mine…he asked me to repeat that myself. I couldn’t. He made me feel nervous…I was feeling so, so nervous. He came closer.

I like that…I like that pair of things you’ve got. What was he talking about? “Those”…he signalled with his head and eyes…what? “but they are only small” I said, then I hugged him so that he could test it for himself…(what was I thinking??, what a turn off that was eh?)
MMM…he said..,“they are ok. Why would you want bigger ones hanging down there, mid-waist. Better small but in place”. He asked me for my contact details in Cuba. I scribbled the hotel I was staying at in Havana. He asked me if it wasn’t a lie. Was I being honest?….. I was.

Then more music. Suddenly, a Merengue song was being played. For the whole night, only salsa had been played. I jumped when I heard the music. “you wanna dance?” he asked. “Of course!” I said.

He held my hand and took me near the dance floor. We were dancing tight. He smelt so nice.. so good… then he was about to kiss me when I panicked…(my teeth, I thought…do I have bad breath now?) I stopped him and said nothing could happen…I was a married woman…how could I look at my “husband” in the eyes again?

He said he didn’t believe I was married. I explained how my “husband” and I lived. He lived in Mexico and visited England 4 times a year. I travelled once a year.
“So”..he said, “next time you come here, will you come with him? or on your own like now?” I said I would go on my own as it was only me who liked salsa.

“Promise me you will be back” he said, “and on your own, without your friend over there”. “if you come back, I will take you to places, I will give you an entire week. I will make you happy”…what? “make me happy”…MMM I don’t know about that but I said that I wasn’t looking for anybody “to make me happy”. My concept of happiness was different from the guys’ point of view.

But as we were talking, I was very close to him…saying “No” with my words but saying “yes” with my body language. I was touching his back, stroking his head.

The live band started playing again and I turned to see them play. Miguel stayed behind me and hugged me. It felt so good.
He then kissed me on the neck, near my ears, licked my neck, bit me softly.

I felt the so famous butterflies in my stomach… I smiled. The song finished and the band thanked the audience. “You liked that, didn’t you?” he said.
“Of course!” I replied…”Aha…you are not made of stone then?”…”No..I am a woman…I do feel”.

End of the night. Time to say good bye. I thought “finally” Now I don’t have to pretend anymore…but deep inside me, I wished I had kissed him. I knew I wasn’t going to see him again…

Back in the hotel room, my friend asked me if I was ok. I had danced only three songs and had spent the whole night with Miguel. Was I not frustrated for not dancing as I had planned? “No”. I had had a very nice and exciting night.

Then I started crying…I wasn’t going to see him again. No man..never…I could not kiss anybody. My teeth were my problem. I was half a woman…
he never called..we went to the same place the following day but he wasn’t there. I was hoping to meet him again and say good bye…
I had a feeling he was genuine. Maybe not at the beginning but there was something different about him. He wasn’t like the other Cubans we had met.

That night, I went to the toilet many times, mainly to make sure I looked ok in case he turned up. I ended up chatting to the lady attending the toilets. She told me how embarrassed she felt sometimes of being Cuban. Not because of her but because of the guys. She said that most of them were not genuine, that they tried to take advantage of tourists…so many bad things about them…however, there were exceptions. Like a guy she knew called Miguel. (Miguel? I thought…how many Migueles there must be in Cuba!)…she said he was one of the reps in the place and a great dancer. He was so hard working…so nice, so reliable… and honest…I then realised it was the same Miguel.
So…my instinct was right. He was different. I told her about the previous night and left my contact details in a” letter” I scribbled on a tiny piece of paper.
“Miguel”, I wrote, “ I am really sorry for my lies last night. I am not married and was not scared of you. I will come back to Cuba but only if you contact me. I will stay in Mexico for another month. Please call me. If I don’t hear from you, it will be impossible to be back. I will fly back to England at the end of January”. I left my e-mail address doubting he could access internet…still.

I flew back home with a broken heart. I tried to call him many times from Mexico but I was told he had left and wasn’t working there anymore.
Then I e-mailed that other Cuban I danced with. The night before I left he gave me his e-mail. I asked him to try to find Miguel and tell him to contact me. I explained how I felt and that it was important for me to find him.

Yosvani replied in one of his e-mails that Miguel had got married to a Dutch girl and that he had moved to Holland.
I could not believe what I was reading. “Cheeky bastard” I thought. Of course…men. He was engaged to the girl and wanted to sleep with me…yes…but, but…he was different.. wasn’t he?

When I wrote back to Yosvani, I told him I was heart broken. I was devastated and sad. I think he took pity on me and replied that he “had made a mistake” and that the Miguel he thought was a different one.
In any case, he didn’t help me find Miguel.

I flew back to England a month later and re-started my life. Found a new place to live and went back to university. I started work gradually again and forgot about Miguel.
Forgot about finding him again…couldn’t forget the night…how stupid I had been.
I was frustrated with the dance scene in Newcastle. Salsa was not the same after Cuba and Mexico.
I needed “fresh blood”. I went to Edinburgh with a friend to dance. The first night was horrendous. The second night we went to another place.
I danced with a nice guy …at the end of the night we were kissing…it was a nice feeling. It was so romantic…Hadi was a sweet, sweet guy. He was totally infatuated with me. I went back to Edinburgh the following week and spent the night at his. Nothing happened. I wasn’t ready..plus…I am not that kind of girl.
I told him I wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship. The truth is …I was but not with him. I was obsessed with the idea of meeting a Latin man. A black, Latin man.
That kiss gave me the confidence I needed. I realised it was possible to kiss people. I could kiss and be kissed.
It was almost the beginning of March. I was in full swing with university and work. I called home as usual and Mum told me a guy from Cuba had called me reverse call. She didn’t take it.
I thought Yosvani was calling…what for?
Mum then said it was a Miguel Rodriguez. What? I could not believe what I was hearing. I knew how expensive it was to call from Cuba. Mum said it wasn’t of a gentleman to do that…only I knew why he had done it. Cuba is so poor.
I also received an e-mail and he said he had received all correspondence and needed a number in England to call me.
It is now two months since we spoke again, e-mails and phone calls. When he calls me “mami” I melt.
I am flying back to Cuba to meet him again. I just want to kiss him all over. Dance with him. Walk hand in hand in the promenade and …may be…after all…he can ”make me happy”.

Hmmmmmmm,
How many times I've seen this in Cuba, wow.
Just watching another female friend going though separation from her Cuban husband.
It's strange how easily girls fall for this shit, my friend's Cuban hubby says:
Doesn't she understand, I'm Cuban and I will never change..........

Yeah, I like the part where he tells her "she's not very attractive" I'm a sucker for that myself. Don't all gurls like to be told how unbeautiful they are?
Maybe he was concentrating too hard on the false teeth.
Nice synergy between the mujer bathroom attendant & the "rep", Miguel, vouching for him as muy different from the rest of the users. (note: she gets a grande tip each nite from her novio Miguel & a cut of deal later down the road)
Astute observation: "if they weren't so poor, they probably wouldn't DANCE as much" Yup, direct correlation between salsa-ing & poverty. That's why the Sudanese dance too.
Mom thinks M is cheapstake for calling collect, even tho his bud Yovanis had her email address but M is starting out the romance right by reversing the charges-- he sets the TONE for the whole shebang. Ka-ching!
(in the background hums the tune 'We've Only Ju$t Begun' by Karen Carpenter)
'Ronica better practice getting her mouth around the word papi before too long with or without the dentures.

I`ve seen it too, the wc attendant who tells you that this one is different, so hard working ettc, it'`s a classic!!!

A friend of mine who married a salsero some years ago told me a story almost identical, she is a fantastic dancer and speaks spanish fluently, she alwys falls for the same type, dark skinned and great dancers.

We lost contact after she got married, one night when we were havig a party, her husband arrived with a new girl, they were clearly enjoying eachother, he blinked to me and said:"this is not my woman, she is at home taking care of our baby, I have three others!"

"I know, because I happen to now your wife" I replied.

ah yes SO typical.

the white europea wants black latin pinga.

one sees it all over the Caribbean.

and to think he had her at the first piropo (tienes los ojos muy bonitos)

pretty funny.

I need to meet Latin women like that with the reverse syndrome

but I don't quite understand what the big fucking deal is here. This woman is a flake.

the idea is not for you to "fall in love" or meet "the man of your dreams" and other such fucking nonsense.
the idea is for you to enjoy your vacation, savor the moment, as time sucks more sand out of your ever emptying clock.

if you want to fuck him, fuck him. if you don't, then don't. If he makes you feel good and you want more of those times, then fine come back and spend time with him. Just don't make more out of it than what it is.

but why all the melodramatic novela bullshit?

it was funnier still when she thought telling a cuban male she was "married" would matter.

HAhahahahahahaahahahahaha.

that only works (sometimes) with pigmentally challenged gringos/europeos.

Oh brother.....

The poor woman has discovered "unspoiled" men. Anglo/Western Men all have that dreaded disease of "Commitment Phobia". They watch way too much Dr. Phil. All that therapy is making their brains into mush.

A Cuban just lives for the moment; especially in Cuba.

I remember on my first date with my husband he told me, "I love you". I looked at him and said, "Oye, guarda la muela para otra que te lo crea". He just looked at me and smiled. He was going to have to try a different tactic. I wasn't THAT Westernized yet.

Is this from CubaAmor? It has the same stupid MO many of the twits that post there have, which of course I find funny (better them than me). Some fembots are so easy and stupid (so are guys BTW). The difference is that women can be easy all over the world if you have the time to find their button. With women it is ALL about them, but they all yearn for deterrent things, but Cubans go for the easy one. Women all over the world like piropos at one level or another. Married women are some of the easiest because no matter what they are lacking something at home. When was the last time she was told about her pretty eyes by her husband? Likely a long time. What Cuban guys have that western men do not is time, patience and absolutely nothing to lose and so they go in with all guns blazing -- and it works sometimes. If it only works one time it could mean a free meal for a couple of years and all you have to sacrifice is your pinga...not a bad gig.

Like I said, the source is Cuba Junky. The Cuba Amor picante stuff is more caliente then this saga. Ahhh… the crack about ojos bonitos is tendered from the writer to Sr M, NOT the reverse. At least she knows how to make compliment.
As for her question, how many Migueles can there be in Havana City? Uhmmm. Plenty. Here’s an alternate scenario:

Miguel Senior returns home at 3am from a demanding emplejo of “repping” at el club. His pretty mulata common-law wife is sleeping. So are his adorable three hijos---Miguel Uno, Miguel Dos & Miguel Tres. It’s difficult not to wake los boys as the whole familia share the same dormitorio.
Miguel Senior reflects on the night’s “work”…..

Its very frio in Inglaterra, colder than Alaska!
They waste good milk putting it in their tea.
They have funny accents nobody understands.
Their patron saint is “Lady” Di. (no orisha equivalent)
How does one get to the Cuidad de Oro (Miami) from Londres?

Mercy Wrote:Oh brother.....

The poor woman has discovered "unspoiled" men. Anglo/Western Men all have that dreaded disease of "Commitment Phobia". They watch way too much Dr. Phil. All that therapy is making their brains into mush.

A Cuban just lives for the moment; especially in Cuba.

I remember on my first date with my husband he told me, "I love you". I looked at him and said, "Oye, guarda la muela para otra que te lo crea". He just looked at me and smiled. He was going to have to try a different tactic. I wasn't THAT Westernized yet.

I like that line will try to remember it.

however, I'm not sure it's not the other way around though re westernization, etc. maybe your example works with susceptible black pinga seeking women.

but..

from what I've seen abroad, though latin women, and especially cubanas will see thru and shrugg off a mere piropo, they actually eat all the over the top melodramatic shit up. (and if she finds you attrative you can tell her the worst piropo and it will work)

maybe it's from watching all those telenovelas.

especially the younger girls. It's SO funny seeing these young kids, sitting on benches, etc making out... the girl looking at the guy with those OBVIOUS "puppy dog" eyes, and the guy is merely thinking about getting laid.

they will tell them ANYTHING.

and the women though they have to know how their men are.. still expect them to tell them anything... and choose to believe it anyways.

it defies belief

Bogey, I can understand being young and doe eyed. I remember those days from High School.

But, this lady has no teeth. She can't be that young! Especially when the whole world knows about Cubans and their predicaments. They will say anything to get out of the island or at least, have someone support them.

A Brit with bad teeth??!?!?! This can't be true story...now had she said she was Polish....

I still don't understand why she has no teeth.

I think it has to do with drinking untreated water...ask Bogs, he would know...:-)

I think she might have been Quetzie's girlfriend.
A typical army idiot always makes his gf go toothless.
Remember why you got discharged?

As I said monkey vanboy, I was never in the Army. Had you read any of the aforementioned posts you would have known that when Bogs is refering to "Airman" he is referring to a low ranking enlisted person in the US A-i-r F-o-r-c-e -- get it? A-i-r..... I guess your education did not work on reading comprehension.

As for making your mama toothless, the bitch had it coming...she talk almost as much as you do...and sounds just as stupid

Like hundreds of thousands I was discharged because my enlistment commitment was completed and i needed to get to college and it had nothing to do with your mother...she came later in my life...after we had you it all went down hill from there.