Ronaldo the man…

19 Sep

Ronaldo is moving to Chicago. (To find out who Ronaldo is Click here)

Ronaldo waved me over the moment I got to Starbucks this morning.

I could have put together a list of things he would say to me, and none of them would include the following.

“I wanted to say goodbye.”

I figured with his son in the wicked legal hole he righteously deserves to be in, he would definitely be sticking around.

Not so.

A long time friend of he and his deceased first wife lives in Chicago. They hooked up at a family thing awhile back.

The vision of a pair of 70 year olds “hooking up” may ruin my sex life forever.

But, the man is smitten and is leaving tonight.

Right after he told me this, his girlfriend came in.

The plot thickens.

There is a willowy ginger that works at the Starbucks. Tall girl, pretty, pale skin with a spray of freckles and red hair that drops to her lower back.

To be ironic, we’ll call her Ginger.

Ronaldo always makes it a point to say hi to her when she comes in and refers to her as his “girlfriend”. I always took it to be the innocent way an older man admires a pretty young woman.


She kisses his cheek as she sits down and they explain pleasantries.

“When is your flight again?” Ginger asks, and I get the feeling they are continuing a previous conversation.

“Tonight at 7pm.”

“Did you want me to drop you off at the airport?” She fusses with her phone.

“My daughter will drop me off.” He reaches into the bag on the seat next to him, pulling out a small box.

“I got you a gift.” He hands it to her.

Ginger doesn’t seem shocked.

She unwraps the small box and opens it.

A Faberge Egg?

A quick check of ebay shows prices going anywhere from $20 to $2000.

The question in my head is not “Is she sleeping with him?”

Its “How did it not kill him?”

Ronaldo the player.

Winner, winner, chicken dinner.

I would normally be a little creeped by an older guy involved with a younger girl, but then my mind justifies it for the oddest reason.

He’s due.

After everything his rotten shit of a son has put him thru, is putting him thru, and will still drag him thru in the future, he deserves anything thatmakes him happy.

He has the get out of jail free card.

Ginger loves the egg, which, given that she is a woman and it is shiny, expensive and a gift, is tailor made for feminine worship.

I am not sure what you do with it, other than look at it. After you look at it and put it on the shelf, then what?

Bet it in a poker game against Liz Taylor’s earrings. (Sorry, was watching a video of a tv show and a White Diamonds commercial came on. My bad, won’t happen again.)

Did you ever see Liz in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof? God, she was a hottie.

Back to Ronaldo.

Ginger leans forward and gives him a peck on the lips. It might be my evil mind that made it a little lingering?

“I’m late, I have to get in back. I have your cell, I’ll call later.”

And she went to put on her apron and shlep chai.

Ronaldo patted my arm.

I was staring in total confusion at the back room door she had just gone thru. I turn and look at him

“She is a lovely girl, I will miss her.”

He stands, straightening his pants.

He puts out his hand and I shake it.

And he left.

I have so many questions. So many more now than before I got here this morning.

A WHOLE lot more.

And none of them are going to get answered.

Unless I can crack the Ginger.

To be continued.

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Posted by on September 19, 2011 in Uncategorized


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