“Mother knows best”
– probably a mom

The summer of 1997 was more anxious than the past, I started to being stalked. Thankfully, only happened once but still, I remember this year being terrifying.

It all started when my brother’s boss – a boy 5 years older than my brother who had a fleet of public transportation busses and a family with “means” –  approached my brother, to make him act as messenger and asked me if I wanted to go out with him on a date. My brother’s face feel uncomfortable as he was asking his boss’ request. I didn’t go into too much detail, and I said no.

Two days later, my brother asked me again but this time he came with a gift – it was a box of chocolates and a flower his boss’ had bought for me. I looked at it (and felt very flattered someone was escorting me), but I said no again.

A week passed and my brother approached me with the same question “if I was interested to go out with his boss”, but this time his boss was waiting near our house, at the corner of the block (I guess he figured if I could glance through the window and look at him that perhaps I would change my mind?). I said no again. I felt bad for my brother, I knew his boss was pressuring him to do this (which hello? not a real way to get a woman)

Then my mom approached me and said to me “are you crazy?, a rich man is courting you for this long and you say no over and over?”

“I’m not into him, mom” I said.

“You need to give him a chance, besides, he might be able to show you the world. You know, like taking you to fancy restaurants or places.” She said it to me with a spark in her face.

I was 16. I started thinking that perhaps I was being very hard on him and that I should, at least, give him the courtesy of a date in return for all his attention. Minutes later I told my brother to tell his boss he could pick me up the next day at 6pm.

The next day arrived and I was not at all nervous about this. I got ready and of course my mom told me that I needed to polish my look more. When I looked through the window I saw this good looking red mustang – remember the 90’s? – parked in front of the house and the guy standing right by it. Very cheesy now that I think about it. He was holding a bunch of red roses.

He was nervous. He trembled as he spoke to me every single sentence. I felt bad (and somehow empowered by it) and I tried to be easygoing to minimize this reaction. He took me to dinner and then to a movie right after. When he dropped me off by the house he confessed to me that I made him very happy by accepting his invitation, especially after he found out I was enrolled in University and he was not.

As time progressed he tried to give me a good night kiss, but I was quick to confess that I did not see anything coming out of our date; that perhaps remaining friends was a better choice. He was sad and slightly mad.

“I saw a fortune teller”, he said ,

“and said to me that your dad would separate us”.

I immediately labelled him, really, come’on, who goes and sees a fortune teller?. He insisted a lot in giving him a chance to proof me I was meant for him. He insisted. And so did I. The answer was loud and clear, NO.

My mom later asked me about my date with this rich uneducated boy. I just answered to her that I tried a fancy doughnut for dessert, to which she quickly replied I was stupid for my poor dinner choices. My mom couldn’t comprehend why money and status wasn’t in my best interest. I couldn’t really answer her why either, it was just my gut feeling.

Days later my dad was at the front porch with my brother talking and enjoying the late afternoon. I joined their conversation and slowly my dad said this to me: “Your brother quit his job. His boss was physically and verbally abusing your brother. He hit him the other day prior to your date with him, ya’ know?. That’s how he deals with his employees. That guy is a drug-dealer and has no good intentions. He is not good for you.”

I didn’t see that boy again after that.

Until today, I’ll never forget that I followed my mom’s advice and failed. But most importantly, I will never forget that that boy’s future teller was right and I’m so damn happy about it.

Since that day I know that mom not always knows best. Unfortunately, that was my case.

Linking with YeahWrite #53 and Quotable Bits #15