Last Sunday, after a night of partying I woke up at 9am and was inspired to write. (Actually, we had a cookout planned for my cousin’s birthday and I knew I wouldn’t be able write anything during the night.) I received a call from Ema and he said, “Come over and we’ll chill on the porch and drink some beers.” (No one ever calls me to go to church anymore. Hit me up people!) It was a hot summer day. We cracked some brews and relaxed. An hour or so elapsed, when an older Cape Verdean gentleman happened to walk by. We invited him to grab a seat and join us for a drink. He declined at first, but eventually gave in. “Mr. Cabral” was a blast. He was full of stories. Great morning until…three young ladies walked by. They weren’t a day over 12. They first walked by Ema. He barely noticed and continued speaking. They walked by me, but I was too focused on the conversation to even acknowledge their existence. That’s when the festiveness of morning changed. Mr. Cabral couldn’t keep his eyes off of the girls and in the creepiest voice he said, “Hi babies.” (It was the so embarrassing!) We couldn’t believe what we heard. He seemed so respectable. I turned to Ema and we were stunned. Mr. Cabral turned to us with a smile on his face and laughed; he was proud of himself. One morning, and we become the creepy pervy-pedophiles of the neighborhood. Mr. Cabral, who is 78, sat with us for another half hour before thanking us and leaving. Ten minutes after his departure, the girls walked back up the street. They remained on the opposite sidewalk and seemed scared to look towards the house. BELIEVE IT OR NOT!
Check back tomorrow for a preview of next week’s entries!