The butterflies are back. I thought the butterflies might have been killed off entirely by the tired Tee debacle but they are back, full swing. Despite the fact that Nesto is from a patriarchal culture that feels the need to suffocate, I mean, "take care of" it's women, despite the fact that there's his ex that wants me crucified, despite Tee's passive-aggressive sabotage at every turn...I've got the muthafuckin' butterflies.
Saturday: We went to one bar, I was hit upon while Nesto was in the bathroom and he was very gracious in getting rid of the dude, appreciated. At the next bar, El Rodeo, I tried some Mexican dances, but mostly ended up stepping on his feet. I ended up running into a guy I know (in a basement bar on the South side of Milwaukee where I speak the same language as maybe one in seven people), but left in a hurry as a group of guys wanted to pound Nesto into tortilla dough because he picked my sweatshirt off the floor! Not so cool. (It was a "disrespect" thing. Also known as: find someone you want to start a fight with and cite an intangible offense like disrespect as the cause, psst - it's almost impossible to disprove this because the music is always too loud to speak civilly and then you can accuse the innocent of yelling at you.)
Let me share the best conversation of the night:
ER: (Don't forget sexy accent in your head) "Can you believe those fuckin' guys? What was that Marco guy saying to you? Whatever he was saying to you, he should've been saying to me, he shouldn't have bothered you...."
ET: "Soooo, are we going back to your house now? I don't want to get you into trouble, I know you're in a sticky spot still with the ex but I sure would like to come home with you."
ER: "...those guys along the bar knew that was bullshit, they were trying to explain to the owner what happened. I'm sorry that happened, those fuckers. Why would they think I was starting a fight, I'm with my girl? "
ET: "Nesto, I have no clue what the fuck just happened there, everybody was yelling in language I don't understand BUT I'm sitting here, practically throwing myself at you. ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME HOME WITH YOU OR WHAT?"
ER: "Oh. Oh! I'm sorry Etta (At-tah), I didn't mean to..."
ER: "You coming home with me."
And the rest of the night was spent reviving butterflies. Sigh.
The next morning, I had plans to help Tee move and so had to scurry home but Nesto walked me to my car and asked me to stay with him, if I could.
That right there is a cause for pause. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. I am caught completely unprepared by Nesto's willingness to jump right in and spend some serious quality time. His charming eagerness to grow a relationship is in stark contrast to my jaded, self-erected electric fence.
He wants five kids, I'm happy with my one. He wants a wife, I am desirous of a good time, minus the strings. He has few friends, instead favoring "his girl," I wish I had more time to be with and make more friends. His contrary beliefs are admirable and simultaneously irritating.
In his cheerful compliments and spontaneous displays of affection, my comfortable role of seductress is fast becoming a woman who is way out of her comfort zone; bewildered, but liking it. Despite this, I will remain faithful to my number one assertion that I am NOT wife material, no matter how Nesto tries to convince me I am. Although he has gotten me to agree to sexual exclusivity, a large leap indeed.