Guest Post from El Guapo

I love El Guapo. How can you not love El Guapo, with his beautiful mustache and laid back Guatemalan cool?

Today I hope to have some of that cool rub off on me by association, as the ladies' man himself has written a guest post for this site.

I first stumbled across his blog about a year ago from a link I followed in Andraste's link list, and was instantly hooked. Almost everything he writes can be read on at least 2 levels - on the surface is the wide eyed naiveté of the innocent abroad, but underneath is often a cutting observation of the human condition.

But the best way to read El Guapo is just to put on your best Latino accent and let the pictures flow.

Read, enjoy and add him to your favourites if you've not already done so

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"Who do you know who's Scottish?"

This friend of mine. Kim.

"Nice! Is she hot?"

Bueno, Kim, Kim Ayres, is a guy. A Scottish guy.

"Remember that blonde with the big feet I dated? Her name was Kim. Why does he have a woman's name?"

I don't know. Maybe they have different names in Scotland.

"So, can Jessica be a man's name there?"

I don't know. Maybe. I've never been. I don't know very much about Scotland.

"So why are you going to see this concert tonight?"

I've been trying to relate to Scotland, so that I can write something for Kim, but when I try to speak to a Scottish person, I can't understand what they're saying. So, I'm going to see Damien Rice tonight.

"Is he Scottish?"

No. He's Irish. I figured it was the next best thing. The Irish fought with the Scottish in Braveheart, so I figured it would be similar.

So, I dragged Miguel to see Damien Rice last Friday evening. I had heard a couple of his songs before, but I would never call myself a fan. It's the type of music that you play when you're first dating a woman and want to show her your sensitive side because women LOVE LOVE LOVE Damien Rice. This point proved true because there were gaggles of women in groups and men being dragged along by their wives or Friday night girlfriends.

"Jesus Christo, all the women are going to think I'm gay because I'm here with you!"

I ignored mi amigo and looked at my surroundings. It was a large concert hall with several thousand people sitting down. I never understood how people can go listen to music sitting down. This guy was going to be playing with drums, guitars and a piano, but people were going to be sitting down.

The music was good. I was surprised, but more than halfway through the concert, people were still sitting down. It was obvious that everyone was enjoying themselves, but they just expressed it by nodding their heads. Gringos…

Then, in a song with some Jamaican beats, it happened. A woman, a blonde little thing, got up and started to dance. She was in the moment. She was loving life. She was loving the music. She was the only person in a hall of over 4,000 people who was dancing and it was beautiful.

She didn't have a care in the world and it was my favorite part of the entire concert. I stopped listening to the music and watching the concert and just watched her. I can't tell you what she looked like (other than the blonde hair) because I wasn't that close to her, but her dancing was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

People are so worried about what others think that they rarely let themselves go. This woman didn't care what the other 3,999 people thought of her dancing. She danced.

Sometimes, I wish I could do this more often. Dance like no one's watching.

Perhaps it is as I've heard, that the secret to life is: To dance like no one's watching; love like you've never been hurt; work like you don't need the money.

And it took a blonde being happy at an Irishman's concert for me to realize this.

Mucho Amor,

El Guapo