Ever have a Seinfeld moment? You know, start dating somebody and then realize there’s something wrong with them, so you call it off. ‘Member the episode where Jerry is set up with a beautiful woman only to realize she had man hands? ‘Member? You ‘member. I had a few of those moments. Tragic (and shallow) as it may be, they were part of the fabric that makes up the loincloth that is Jefe’s love life.
A long time ago (in a galaxy and lifetime far away), Jefe was set up with a cute gabacha that worked in the same hospital he did. I know you all probably thought Jefe only dated Latinas but when it comes to women, he is equal opportunity: every woman has an equal opportunity to get with him. Such is the fruit; such is the magic that is Jefe…despensa. Anywados, this Julia Stiles-looking hyna was really sweet. So what was the problem you may ask? Her thumbs were abnormally huge.
Now I’ve seen some messed up hands in my life, Chuck Bednarik (old school NFL player) comes to mind, but thumbs are a different story. Her thumbs looked like they were replaced with her big toes. She’d probably destroy my thumbs had we ever thumb wrestled. En serio! I don’t know if her father was some kind of mad scientist and thought it cool to do that but it freaked me out. The worst part was I couldn’t stop looking at them. It was like a train wreck – I just had to look. Needless to say, Jefe and monster thumbs didn’t last long.
Then there’s this hyna. She was a gorgeous Latina; very petite; very athletic. Quick life lesson: Never, ever…ever, ever, ever, judge a book by its cover! What was the problem with this hyna? Where to start? For one, she had bunions. I’m not talking your normal hot chic bunions because of the stylish/uncomfortable shoes she wears, bunions. No, I’m talking about did your mom mate with a pterodactyl, bunions. I ‘member the first time I saw them. We were going swimming and I was totally pumped to see her in a bikini. That joy and anticipation was soon met with sheer terror when we got out of the pool. Mind you, Jefe has a staring problem so she saw me staring down at her feet. She nonchalantly says, “Oh, I have bunions”. En serio? I didn’t notice. Incredibly, Jefe overlooked the feet fiasco and soldiered on. The deal breaker came on a simple night with friends at a local In-N-Out.
On a late Tuesday night, me and hija de Sasquatch met up with friends to grub and hang out. After a while, she gets up to leave and asked for directions home. I laughed (as did my friend, John, who was close by) because she had lived in the Crown for quite a while and I thought she was joking. Wrong! Wrong! So I simply told her to make a left onto the 91 freeway ramp and then exit McKinley. It should only take her five to ten minutes to get home. I walk her to her car, say good bye and as I’m walking back, John points to the freeway. She was going the wrong way! Instead of going east on the 91 she was going west. Me and John jump into my ride and speed after her.
Flooring it, I catch up to her. John rolls down his window and we both are screaming, “You’re going the wrong way!” She smiles and waves and then proceeds to get on a different freeway, the 71 north! I book it to the nearest off ramp; turn around and head to the 71. By that time, it was too late. The road is completely black both ways. I’m Furious Styles and John is laughing his colita off. He says, “I can’t wait to tell everybody!” I practically threatened him with death not to say a word.
The next day, the blonde Mexican calls Jefe to tell what happened. She obviously took the wrong ramp. She thought we caught up to her to say bye. She then proceeds to tell about how it took her an hour and a half to get home. She saw signs that said Ontario as she was driving on another freeway (the 60) and thought it was for the street of the same name in the Crown not for the city she was driving through. As fine as she was, sans the feet, Jefe had enough. I could deal with the patas but when the elevator doesn’t reach the top floor, it’s time to go.
I’m sure everybody has their own Seinfeld moments/stories. Life can sometimes imitate art and be stranger than fiction. Jefe and the hynas he’s met are proof of that.