Quiero que me hagas el amor

December 27, 2010

This evening, after work, I was at my usual hangout: the supermarket. I'm moseying around aimlessly – as I refuse to ever write a list of what I need. This leads to buying too much of what I don't need, and very little of what I do need. There is an inordinate amount of mature couples tonight, I notice. Not necessarily elderly, but older. Tired. Bored. Sick of each other. A particular couple catches my eyes – and ears – because they are American. Not just American, NEW YORKERS. That accent is unmistakable, probably because I share in it. But my version has a little Puerto Rico in it, knowhattamean?

Anyway, the husband (I am asuming, as no one else could be this sour looking next to a woman) is walking next to his wife, discussing the prices of various luncheon meats. He seems offended that prices have risen a tad since the vietnam war. So he's walking, with that waddle that so many gentlemen seem to acquire with age, and he's mumbling to himself and/or his wife, whoever listens.

At this point, the supermarket speakers begin to pour forth a song by Ednita Nazario, "Quiero que me Hagas el Amor." Lyrics follow:

Ednita Nazario

Quiero que me hagas el amor

No necesariamente
Tiene que ser ahora
No necesariamente
Tiene que ser urgente
Pero una furia loca
Pone mi sangre ardiente
¯Qué será? ¿Qué será?
¯Qué será? ¿Será el amor?

No necesariamente
Tiene que ser aprisa
Pero hoy quiero abrazarte
Perderme en tu sonrisa
Hazme llegar al cielo
Con un latido eterno
Lento, lento, lento

Quiero que tú me ames
Cómo si fuera única
Quiero que me acorrales
En el rincón más íntimo
Y enredada a tu cuerpo
Te robaré el aliento
Quiero que me hagas el amor
Quiero que me hagas el amor

No necesariamente
Tiene que ser perfecto
Deja volar tu mente
Entre el amor y el sexo
Bajo esta luna blanca
Danza feliz mi cuerpo

No necesariamente
Tiene que ser legítimo
Quiero entregarme toda
Y que sea recíproco
Hazme temblar el alma
Hasta la luz del alba
Furia, calma, furia, calma

Quiero que tú me ames
Como si fuera única
Quiero que me acorrales
En el rincón más íntimo
Y enredada a tu cuerpo
Te robaré el aliento
Quiero que me hagas el amor
Quiero que me hagas el amor, oh, oh
Quiero que me hagas el amor
Quiero que me hagas... el amor

For those of you who don't know Spanish, get a translator! I understand you may lose a little in the translation, so I will give you the gist of it.

This is a woman who's, shall we say, in need?  She starts slowly, calmly telling this man who may or may not be her significant other, that she wants him to TEAR IT UP! She's basically saying to him: “Dude, you're a lion, I'm a gazelle. Any questions?”

This desperate crescendo gets increasingly less figurative as the song builds up (if you'll pardon the oxymoron). In any event, the song is pretty hot and to the point, which makes me take notice of the men (of course) again, but, as I stated earlier, it was oatmeal and prune night at the store.

I start thinking about these men and how they would have responded to this request if they had a few years (okay, a few decades) less on their baggage. The men were all pretty much healthy (they were walking, weren't they?), many had a full head of hair and strong arms still. I wondered about the come hither look my New York husband would give his lady, how their bodies would warm up and their neurons would start to fire. Furia, Calma, Furia, Calma! I stopped myself short of imagining the end of the song, if you knowhattamean. I did not need to throw up on the nice polished floor.

Since I am obviously still a very sexual person and it doesn't look like my drive is going anywhere any time soon, I can't help but to wonder: what's it gonna be like when I'm moseying around the supermarket next to my waddler. Am I going to be a sex-starved housewife, blaming the produce for being so provocative? Who decides when I stop having sex? A man? Really? Depressing.

I'm a hopeless romantic, I don't want little bursts of adventure. I believe in love and marriage and so on and so forth. I want a man to share the rest of my life with, someone I can live happily ever after with.

As soon as my divorce is finalized.