Thursday, May 8, 2014

Chapter 18 Another Single Renter in Cali's Compound

Another Single Renter in Cali’s compound

I stopped by to pick up my girlfriend from Cali one evening, and she had a new renter in her compound, a beautiful, young blonde from England. A true English white rose. Now, I am sure, at this point, you’re wondering how all of my friends can be beautiful; it cannot possibly be. Well, it is true. I have always said there are not that many beautiful people unless you are in New York City or LA. But for some reason there are, in these expat communities, many of them.  In fact, she was so beautiful that I remember one time she flew to LA to meet a man she had met on POF. He told her that she was too beautiful, and that it took attention away from him. When she was planning for that trip, another friend of ours told her that she had many friends in LA and to go through her Facebook friends and ask the ones from LA to be her friend. She did so and was shocked when one sent her a message saying that if she ever contacted him again he would report her for spam as no one could be as beautiful as she was and therefore the photo was computer generated. I can see how he thought that, as in photos she looks like a perfect blow up doll. She was in Mexico trying to get into the U.S. since it is not that easy for a British person to get a VISA, except for a short term entry. There were, in fact, many young people in our expat community from England or Italy for this exact reason. She would ask us all the time, “Why are you girls wasting your time in Mexico when you are from the U.S.?” She asked us all if we would have a lesbian wedding with her to help her get a green card. Actually, I felt so sorry for her I considered it for a while until I realized how risky it was for me. Also, imagine meeting a man with whom you want to have a relationship and having to explain, “By the way I am not a lesbian but had to marry a woman!” She made many chick road trips with us to the U.S. looking for a man to marry her and sponsor her. On one trip, when we were crossing the border, the border patrol asked why we were coming to the U.S., I just told him straight out that we were looking for a husband for the blonde in the back seat. They all offered, but she was not going to settle for one of them.
Each time we took her with us there was always a big delay getting her a VISA. One time, as we were getting close to one of the two bridges that will give out Visa’s, the bridge was closed and there was an army tank at the entrance. They told us to go to another bridge. We explained that we had a British person in the car, so they told us which bridge to go to. We got lost, of course, and she was scared to death and screaming at me to run red lights and not to look at anyone in the eyes or ask directions as she was blonde and they would kidnap her. By the time we got to that bridge it was closed down and we begged them to let us cross. They finally did, but when we got on the U.S. side, they would not let us in because they were closed. There were major tears from her about the fear of driving late in Nuevo Laredo so they got a supervisor who said they would let me and the other girl cross. They would hold her in their office, and she could sleep on a cot and get her VISA in the morning.  We could return for her then. She was afraid and said no. We turned around with an escort and the Mexican side would now not let us back because it was so late. Again another supervisor and crying from her and I was getting frustrated, when our other friend who usually is the quiet one got out and said, “Look what would you like us to do: build a house on the bridge?” The customs officers had a meeting and then let us back into Mexico. We drove back to the original bridge which was now open and crossed with delays for her VISA. By the time we checked into the hotel in Laredo it was midnight, and usually we are there by 7 pm, at the latest. We went to the restaurant of the Holiday Inn, but they were closed.  We begged for anything. They said okay as long as you don’t complain about what we make. They made us three club sandwiches. While we waited, we asked for a drink and they said the bar was closed. I said so is the restaurant, but you’re making us sandwiches and we are sitting here, so why not pour us a drink and get a bigger tip and please, we all need one. They poured us three wines and we sat there waiting for the sandwiches enjoying our wine. That was the first night we had ever checked into a hotel on a chick trip without unpacking or turning on our laptops.
One evening in San Miguel de Allende we were at the Longhorn with our laptops on and eating dinner at the bar. She showed me photos of her ex-husband. She said she married him for legal status to live in Bermuda and never loved him.  I asked what happened that she was no longer living in Bermuda.
She said that he came home one evening after work and got down on his hands and knees with his hands in a prayer position and begged her for a divorce.  He said he would pay her anything to please leave, just name a price. She was on her knees showing us how he was begging and pleading to her saying he really did not care what happened to her. It was funny watching her. But after laughing, I said, “Honey, that is really sad. I am sorry for laughing.”
She met a man in San Miguel de Allende who was from Texas who was considering marrying her and really cared for her. He took her on a road trip with him to Texas. For us girls she was usually a joy to travel with, except that she was not much help. She could not read a road map. Even when I would try to show her a small part of it and ask her to remember the exit # at a highway turn off, she could not remember how to find it on the map.  Usually she would have the map upside down or be looking at the Mexico map in Texas. She had never driven a car either. In many ways, she was the Blonde Joke come to life. She was great about helping to put the luggage in the car or take it out and was fair to the penny on costs. But when we would stop to get gas, go to the bathroom and buy snacks, she would refuse and say she did not have to. No matter what we said she refused.
However, when she and her Texas man returned, they were not getting along at all. Then one night she had too much to drink at a local pub and started to call him awful names loudly. When he left, she followed him down the street yelling more and jumping on his back. It was not pleasant for him or any of us.
She was so talented, but would do too many projects at the same time and never complete any of them. We all tried to mother her and help her. She had a bad relationship with her mother, so she looked at me and Cali as mother figures. If she had something to do, we would have to remind her every day for a week and then on the day or she would forget.
I would introduce her to other British people in town, especially ones her own age. This is when I found out there was a dislike between people in the South of England to those in the North, and that she was from the North. I did not see the difference except accent. She had overcome hers.
This really nice man came down who was a photographer and wanted to photograph us at Sunset one Saturday night. I think mostly he had a crush on her. What man wouldn’t? Friday we had a party to go to. So all week I kept reminding her about Friday and Saturday. On Friday morning she said to me, “So we are going to the party to get sloshed and then doing a photo shoot right after? I again explained to her the nights and times. She did show up for the party, but she came in jeans late for the photo shoot.
We had to put her size 3 body into Cali's size 12 and pin her into it. We were all supposed to wear black. We called the photographer and the other girls and told them we would be an hour late.
Our chick road trips with her to Texas were always interesting. She had never seen a trailer before and asked many questions about them and then finally asked why would you have to pay rent or buy land to park it if you owned your own house? She seriously thought that she could just move it around into different people’s gardens and surprise them. When she saw her first drive-in movie she asked how you could hear it in the car and what would happen if it was cold outside.
They did not have these in England either. The first time we drove across the border with her and she saw everyone in lines with their suitcases open, she got all excited and said, “America is great, there are even garage sales at the border while you're waiting.”
On our final chick road trip together she and Bling Bling were not getting along at all. We stopped to stay at Bling Bling’s ranch, and I was exhausted from the war and went to lie down. They, meanwhile, decided to relax with Scotch. I was awakened by yelling and came out, and they both started to scream at me to make the other one stop. The mother was in shock. Neither of them spoke to each other again after that trip. The sad thing was that what she was saying to Bling Bling about her boyfriend and life style was valid, but it was in front of her mother and none of her business, and we were guests at her ranch.
Articles on San Miguel:
Online newspaper’s about San Miguel: