The Yes Girl
by Ran Scot
So there I was standing in a bar somewhere in México. My Spanish was still horrific, instead of the mild train wreck it is today. But that did not stop me from talking to the ladies. One such girl, who was truly cute as a button, aggressively tried to help me cross the language barrier. It took me a few minutes to realize she was actually speaking English with a thick Bajío accent. The thumping techno music in the bar might have had something to do with it. But sensing something not quite right, I asked her if she had a boyfriend.
“Yes.”

Hmm, I thought that odd. Better probe a little farther. So I asked her if her boyfriend lived in town.
“Yes.”

This was bad, I had already realized that small Mexican towns had only 2 degrees of separation at best. Anything between me and this girl would instantly get back to the unknown Mexican dude in question. So I asked her if he hung out in the same bars as I did.
“Yes.”

She was still making more passes than Cuauhtémoc Blanco on his good teamwork days, and I started to check over my shoulders for some menacing Mexican hombre ready to beat down the gringo talking to his girl. Fearing this to be true, I asked her if he was in the bar.
“Yes.”

Now I really start scanning the room, as her hand slyly explored my back, and I started to make sure there was a clear path to the exit. I know better than to post up high far from home. Then it hit me.
“That isn’t your boyfriend standing right behind you is it?”
“Yes.”

Holy Monkey on Burro High! Luckily, the dude did not speak English. He was my boy, after all, and a pretty steady drinking partner at the local catina. We had exchanged shots, shared laughs, you know. I just had one more question for this little bunny, ‘Is once a cheater, always a cheater?’
“Yes.”