The hacienda's festive rustic restaurant and pristine comfy rooms sit atop a lofty ridge with coffee-studded forest descending steeply on all sides. The horizon is an ocean of lush blue mountain ranges. Our plush fragrant linens and bamboo-frame bed overlooked a 20-foot-wide window displaying a hammock on a red-tile patio, pine trees full of songbirds, and an endless alpine panorama. The lady was delighted.
(Woman-hating readers who rival feminists in their bitterness and insanity can now feel free to pinch my friend's ass on the street, since she has undressed and bathed in front of the online global community, thus is obviously asking for it. [When will normal people with deep respect for both genders take a stand against machismo and feminist lunatics who destroy the next generation's spiritual capacity to find true love as nature intended?])
With a fiery sundown on the horizon, she emerged from her bath fresh and moist at 7:00 then lay next to me on the bed. Remembering that Mexican girls only go to sleep at 7:00 when they plan to wake up at 1:00 and go dancing, I assumed this was my cue to express my undying affection.
Yes, I paid far more than market price for the cow, while she made me await another day for a sip of the cream. Still, this hopeless romantic wouldn't want her any other way. I salute all the gorgeous powerful women out there who give ape-like men a vision of something beautiful in a lost world. I hope all readers are enjoying this occasionally-ongoing series Chocolate, Vanilla, Tortillas & Salsa: trekking the birthplace of food and will purchase my books, so I can continue buying food in said birthplace, despite being constantly robbed of all my money by dangerous female natives with cruel primitive weapons that I can barely understand much less resist.
P.S. For those feeling sympathy that I lost this battle of the sexes (both of you), I should mention that there was a rematch. I'm a somewhat seasoned combatant, who can abandon my gentlemanly fighting stance to hit below the belt when things get scrappy. I only had to go out on one date with her cousin before that little heifer delivered hot fresh milk to my doorstep. I encourage all the men and women out there to stay in the ring, but let's have a good clean fight!