Is that what you tell all the Negritas?

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Issac....

Issac* was featured in an early journal entry; I'd met him in front of Arco Iris, a disco in Quepos, and he gave me a ride home. He was a bit drunk, but seemed nice. He owns two restaurants in Costa Rica (a high end restaurant in Guanacaste, and a beachfront sushi bar in Manuel Antonio), as well as two in Miami, including the well known, Sabu, patronized by celebrities. Issac is Ethiopian, speaks 7 different languages, and is a shrewd business man. He is in his late 30's or early 40́s, about 6' tall, with a stocky, muscular build, smooth , unlined skin, and a jet black ponytail at the nape of his neck. He drives a jeep with a carseat in the back, so I assume he has a small child. However, I see no ring. He can be seen at his restaurant supervising diligently, or seated at a table conversing with his staff.

This particular evening, I went to a restaurant in Quepos for a late night cup of tea. I'd slept with the fan on and woke up with a bit of a sore throat. This particular restaurant stays open for 24 hours, and as Banco Bar had just closed for the evening, many of the staff came over for a drink and a chat. Shortly thereafter, Isaac enters the bar and orders a glass of chilled white. He looks over to me, and I nod hello, of which he takes as an invitation to join me. I put the book that I had been reading on the table, but I left it open, making it obvious that I wasn't in the mood to chat. My subtly was lost on Isaac as he dives headfirst into a conversation. Or should I say, monologue, as all he received from me was an occasional head nod, and grunt.

The smell of alcohol that protruded from Isaac's mouth made it quite clear that this wasn't his first glass of wine. And like some people, alcohol made him quite talkative, and a little weird. I had only met him once, at a party and he was a little intoxicated then, but the next day at his restaurant he was a postcard of professionalism. His disclaimer this evening was that he doesn't like to drink often, but it́s his birthday, and he was celebrating. It was half past midnight, so he either started as soon as it struck twelve, or began his countdown earlier. His speech was pretty slurred, and as I have issues with alcoholism and drunkedness, the look itself is enough to turn my stomach. But he didn’t notice. He first goes on to talk about how we as black people are spiritually connected and share a bond that most people cannot form in their lifetime. While some of this is true, it́s a little heavy for my midnight teatime. So, I remain silent as not to encourage more talk, but he takes my silence as assurance that I am waiting for more, and proceeds with more that will only be done justice if I just quote it verbatim. Seriously, I couldnt make this stuff up!

(Note: Alchohol Redundancy stipulates that each comment was spoken at least 2 or 3 times):


"The Black woman is the most beautiful woman on earth. She is the purest, most strongest creature. And you, are a spiritual person. No other woman can match that. There is no one around that can have a deeper bond than a black man and a black woman."

"Our connection is so deep that even if you have someone and I have someone, they couldnt give us what we could give each other, because what they give us isn't spritiual. They dońt understand us. What we have is so pure that if we ever made love, we should get on our knees and thanks GOD for what he just gave us, cuz it would be so beautiful."

"Our connection is so deep that Ím making love to you right now, just by looking in your eyes...wére making love, right here, right now."

"I dont even want yoúre body, cuz wére making love right now, as we speak, and it́s great."

"I cańt trust these other women, especially those who just want me for my money, cuz they know Ím a millionaire. But I feel safe with a black woman. Shés the only one that I dońt need to use a condom with."

"Yeah, Ím married. But to a Tica, and she doesńt understand me the way you, as a black woman would. So, Íll tell you what: Tomorrow, I will rent the most expensive hotel in all of Costa Rica, and we can be together. It will be beautiful."

"But I dońt want you for your body, cuz I can have sex with anyone I want to. But I just want to relax. I work so hard that I never get to relax. So we will have the most expensive hotel in all of Costa Rica, and we can just sit and talk."

Yeah...and as he made love to me, just by looking into my eyes, he also must have seen the word ‘STUPID’ written on my forehead, because that has to be the only reason he tried to feed me that BS. Sorry Isaac, but not this black girl.

*Names have been changed to protect the hideously guilty.

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