raymondvelez

[raymondvelez]

[raymondvelez]

Spades ♠️♥️♣️

“When I looked into the eyes of Los, I saw the pain and suffering of everyone he’s ever encountered. He was holding that. So now you gotta hold this. Cause he don’t want you no more, girl.” Marquita said as she dealt the next hand of cards.

“I just feel like I was too hard on him and I pushed him away. He was always honest about his struggles. And despite his shortcomings, he was twice as productive as I was. I would never admit it to him, but it’s true. And he deserved to hear that from me. Now I don’t know if he’s safe, having a moment under the Sears Tower or in front of some liquor store in Humboldt Park.” Celeste explained as she arranged her hand putting all aces in front.

“I didn’t see you crying like this when he went missing all those days only to call you from a jail cell. Now you wanna act all worried about his wellbeing knowing good and God damn well that man alright. That’s a grown ass man. He probably in bed right now with one of them Puerto Rican hos who used to turn they nose up at you when ya’ll would get food at Fullerton and Kimball.”

“That’s cause he always came home, mom. We weren’t perfect but I know he loved me and was always doing right by me. Even at the expense of himself sometimes. No man had ever calmed my nervous system down like him.”

“That’s all good. But he also has a hard time calming down his own. What you wanna do? File another missing person’s report? His momma already told you she spotted him. He was downtown somewhere skipping around with a newspaper. Wearing a suit and everything. I’m trying to tell you to leave that nigga be. He ain’t even all that.”

“Mom, did you make a pass at Los?” Celeste asked with tears in her eyes.

[raymondvelez]

Rainbow Coalition

I hadn’t seen Humboldt Park in what felt like months. And even though I hadn’t been very far at all, just 5 miles up the road on North Avenue in fact, it felt like I had been living in an entirely different world and time. And maybe I was. After all, your reality is mostly in your mind and has very little to do with where you are physically. In a nutshell, Lincoln Park was no longer home.

That’s probably why me and Celeste were having such a hard time getting along lately. I was having the most difficult time focusing and I was becoming extremely difficult to live with. Between legal woes and finding my footing in an industry that was as demanding as you would expect Investment Banking to be, I had become increasingly restless.

Stuck at a red light on North Avenue and California, I couldn’t help but gaze at the Humboldt Building that always seemed to have a line of people that stretched around the block each morning. Maybe they had programs in place that would also be able to help someone with a tortured mind. It was time to put an end to the madness. I’m exhausted from all the running. Certainly there has to be a way to end the racing thoughts and paranoia. It was ending everything else in my life and was on pace to eventually have its way with me as well. I can feel the clock ticking. The soul knows when it doesn’t have much time left with its body.

“I can get out right here.” I said before hopping out the Uber and slamming the door behind me.

I recognized the North Hotel and knew it would be a lot easier to just stay there for the night. Considering that my original plan was to go straight to O’Hare and read my securities textbook until Beatriz touched back down in Chicago, a $48-a-night SRO stay sounded much better than waiting by the carousel for my ex-girlfriend to show up sliding her luggage behind her as she fake laughs with the other stewardesses. Besides, she was just going to lecture me about how I should have never gotten off my medication as she arranged for me to use her American Airlines discount to book a flight to Puerto Rico. Once I pulled the front door open of the hotel, I immediately was relieved from a sub 11 degree windchill. This was the warmest I’d been in a couple days. It was slightly warmer than the Harold Washington Library and much warmer than the McDonald’s and Starbucks.

The lady behind the front desk had a very welcoming expression on her face as I approached her, and I gotta be honest, it was the friendliest expression I’d seen in about a week or so. I tend to recognize those type of details these days.

“Hello, I was looking to book a room just for tonight?” I said.

“Sure. Our smallest rooms start at $60 and our double bedrooms are as much as $120 per night. Do you have any pets with you?”

“The smallest one is fine. Does the room come with WiFi? I work from home and can’t complete my tasks without it.” I explained.

“Yes, all our rooms come with free WiFi . The password is on a menu next to the phone by the bed.” She said.

“Great. I’ll take it.” I said as I slid my credit card from out my Donald Duck wallet.

“Do you have any pets with you?” “No.” “Name?” “My name is Los Cruz.”

Once I got to my room, I threw my backpack that said NIU MBA Program on the bed and raced to the bathroom to turn the shower handles to as hot as possible. As the bathroom mirror steamed up, it slowly began to hide my reflection and I was ever so grateful that it did.

Celeste was right. I don’t even love myself.

[raymondvelez]

I didn’t know if it was true or not. But it sure as hell seemed like it was. I mean, when there’s smoke there’s fire. And when it came to someone that had the same disposition as Mada did, you had a very difficult time trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t. And if I’m being all the way honest with you, a part of me kinda wanted it to be. I know that’s fucked up. But I guess I had so much disdain for him, that a part of me wanted it to be true, just so I could be right in how I always felt about him. He was a monster. I knew it, and I feel like a lot of others recognized this as well. They just ain’t say nothing because most people don’t have the ability to call shit for what it is; regardless of what their gut tells them, because the fear of being in the minority regarding a certain frame of thought is why so many people hide behind their heroes. I’m no hero. Not by a long shot. But I sure as hell wasn’t afraid. Not of him. Or anyone else for that matter. You see sometimes, all you can really do is what’s right. Even if it means not getting the right response. Or preferred, I should say.

[raymondvelez]

https://www.instagram.com/blu_rayray?igsh=aGc3ejRlcGc0N2d1&utm_source=qr

[raymondvelez]

Poultry

Kim and I have been talking about meeting up for breakfast on a Saturday for what seems like forever. So, when I caught myself sitting in a booth at Golden House Restaurant & Pancake House sipping black coffee and reading the weekend edition of the Wallstreet Journal while I waited for Kim to find parking, I knew my Saturday morning was off to an unfamiliar but very promising start. I hardly ever wake up early enough to stop by before starting my shift at the bank across the street; but the few times that I had, I really enjoyed my scrambled eggs and especially adored how stuck in time this particular diner was. In my opinion, this was one of the best breakfast spots in the entire Uptown neighborhood. And I really appreciated my view of Bridgeview Bank from where I was currently sitting. My view was almost adjacent with the window that I constantly gaze out of when I daydream at my desk. 

Kim showed up a lot quicker than I expected. But it made sense since Lake Shore Drive was practically deserted on Saturday mornings. Kim always looks pretty. She can just have her hair pulled back in a wavy ponytail with no makeup on, and it’s still blatantly obvious that she’s an attractive young woman. But when Kim pushed through the door, instead of me flagging her down, I just stared at her. I hadn’t checked out Kim in more than a year or so. I guess seeing her almost every day and us constantly texting had made me take her for granted if I’m being honest. But before our eyes could lock, I was taken back by how sweet she looked with her jet-black hair down and her lips painted red. She also was wearing a tight, black blouse and black leggings that would make most men take a second look at her figure when they felt she wasn’t looking. It was almost as if Kim was treating our meetup like it was a date. I just figured we’d get some breakfast and chat about work drama before we waisted another Saturday afternoon at a bank that should be closed the whole weekend, and not just on Sundays. 

I stood up and greeted Kim with a quick hug that was followed up with Kim firmly planting a kiss on my lips before we sat down across from each other. 

“You got here fast.” I said. 

“There’s hardly any traffic on Lake Shore Drive on Saturdays.” Kim confirmed. 

“I just got coffee. So we can order together.” 

I thought about reaching over the table for her hand, but I didn’t. I don’t know why, but I was a little nervous. Which was weird because Kim was literally one of the few people on earth that I could be my true self around. Kim and I would talk about anything and everything for hours; and with no shortage of inside jokes and even more laughter. I guess her sex appeal she rarely sported caught my attention and now I was trying to come up with things I hadn’t said before. 

“What are you gonna get?” Kim asked with her face hidden behind her menu.

“I’ma just get my usual omelet and hashbrowns with sausage and bacon on the side.” 

“Are their pancakes good?” Kim asked. 

“I haven’t had em. But it’s in their name so I can only imagine them being decent.” I explained. 

Once the waitress came to our table, and Kim struggled to make a decision between pancakes and waffles, I was overwhelmed with regret for never being as present for Kim in the past as I could have. I found myself missing someone who was right in front of me. 

“So what you got planned for the weekend?” Kim asked. 

“Not much. Go home and fall asleep in front of the Cubs game.” 

“That wouldn’t be the same Cubs you’ve yet to take me to would it?” 

“Yes, those same Cubs. Matter fact, you wanna go today? They play at 1:20. If we count the vault early enough, we can make it to Wrigley by the third inning.” 

“As tempting as that sounds, I can’t unfortunately.” 

“Lemme guess, you need a babysitter. Leave her with your mom and tell her you’re going out with me. Hell, have your mom and the baby come with. We can make a day of it. I just need to go upstairs to my apartment and change really fast.” 

“Look at you being so attentive. I appreciate the newfound enthusiasm, but I really can’t Los.”

“Why not?”

“Because after work I’m driving my daughter down to the Metropolitan Correctional Center to visit her father. Today’s his birthday and he asked to see her.” Kim explained. 

I know that Kim was just being a good woman and doing the right thing when it came to motherhood. Because regardless of how things had played out between Kim and the father of her daughter, every father deserves to see their children. Especially on his birthday. But this didn’t stop me from feeling slightly annoyed. I recall numerous times when Kim was late or couldn’t show up to work because the so-called father of her child had either slapped Kim silly or stolen her car keys out of spite. In fact, I was the banker that helped Kim’s mother get approved for her Home Equity Line of Credit that was used on bail money and pointless lawyer fees. If anyone knew what I had to do to get that application approved, I’d be in jail right now with him. 

“I thought you were done with him.” I said. 

“Regardless if I want to be done with him or not, he’s still the father of my child, Los. You know that.” 

“I know, Kim. I’m not questioning that. I just . . . I don’t know. Forget it.”

“I don’t know why you’re pouting, Los. You’re the one who switched up after we had sex. How do you think that made me feel? You didn’t make eye contact with me for like two weeks. If we didn’t work together, I doubt I would have ever heard from you again.” Kim explained. 

“That’s not true.” I explained. 

“Well, that’s how it felt. So stop acting jealous. It doesn’t look good on you.” Kim said as she moved her Coach bag off the table, placing it beside her so the waitress could set her food in front of her. 

“I’m not jealous. And you’re right. I was distant after that night you came over. But I had just broken up with Marlen and you saying you loved me kind of threw me off. I felt so abandoned at that point in my life, I wasn’t ready to be loved by anybody. I was still kind of angry and bitter if I’m being honest.” I explained. 

“Look, I know me telling you that was a lot. But I got caught up in us finally being alone uninterrupted and if I’m being honest, it was mostly rooted in how close we were before that. You’ve been nothing but a great friend to me; and we always had sexual tension, so once we finally spent the night together, I let the wine do most of my talking.” Kim explained. 

“So you don’t love me. You just said it because you got caught up in the moment?” I asked. 

“No. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I do love you. I just don’t know if I can allow myself to be in love with you.” 

“That’s not how love works, Kim. You either love me or you don’t.” 

“Los, I love you. But it’s clear you don’t love me. So I can’t approach you as anything more than a friend. And that’s okay. Cause you’re a great friend. Besides, the last thing I want to do is force anything between us. You’ve played a pivotal role in my life thus far. I’d be dumb to allow sex to come between one of the rarest bonds I’ve had in my entire life.” 

This is one of the most uncomfortable conversations I’ve ever had with Kim. I mean if anything bad ever happened to Kim, I would be devasted. I’d be broken, actually. But despite knowing how much she meant to me, I wasn’t going to allow her beauty and our lust for one another confuse me to the point where I allowed myself to give in and get involved with a woman with so much baggage. I know Kim cares about me. There’s no denying that. And Lord knows I care about her too. But does she really love me? Or is she in love with the idea of getting involved with a man who can elevate her life? I’m not the richest banker in the world, but I’m definitely an upgrade when you compare me to her jailbird of a baby daddy. 

“Los, what’s wrong?” Kim asked. “Hello? Are you spacing out again? 

“No. I’m just processing this.” I replied. 

Kim and I focused on what was on our plates and ate in much needed silence. We had said everything that needed to be said. There was no reason to ruin the mood any further. Sometimes you have to just accept the circumstances that come with the person that you love and not let it get in the way of enjoying whatever memories you can possibly accumulate. I really enjoy making Kim laugh over dinner and drinks at restaurants downtown while her mother babysits her daughter. Or giving her money to get her hair and nails done, even if I’m not always around to enjoy how beautiful she looks after they’re done. Kim and I are great together. There’s no denying that. Very rarely do you befriend a woman with pure intentions and find yourself caring enough for her that you’re willing to let her move in with you. And Kim moving in with me was definitely something that could have transpired if she didn’t come with a child fathered by someone who would look to make our lives miserable simply because she moved on with a better man. It wasn’t that I didn’t want my own family as much as I didn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s. 

“How’s the bachelor life been treating you?” Kim asked as she cut through her pancakes.

“It’s going.” I replied. 

“Do you need help finishing unpacking? Cause I’m not spending another night at your place until you’re done with that. Got me tripping me over boxes and shit.” 

“You’re the one trying to be freaky in the kitchen.”

“You’re the one with the kitchen and the bedroom in the same room.” Kim responded. 

“Don’t be downplaying my studio. It’s the not the biggest apartment, but for a gentrified SRO, it’s modern as hell and the location is amazing. Plus, it’s mine. I don’t gotta answer to nobody and I come and go as I please.” 

“I’m just teasing, Pooh. It’s perfect for you. And you’re right. It’s very chic. Plus, the washer machine/dryer in the kitchen is a nice touch. I have to admit.” 

I was a little annoyed that Kim was making fun of the size of my place. I’m usually pretty good at not taking myself too seriously, but she wasn’t complaining when she was coming over for dinner, wine and an uninterrupted night of peace. The night she came over, I even took the initiative to greet her at the door with a card and some MAC lipstick. And here she was, wearing the same lipstick I bought her for a man who spent more time making her life miserable than ever making it better. So of course I was a little annoyed. 

“Has Marlen contacted you?” Kim asked. 

“No.” 

“Well ya’ll have only been broken up for what, six months? She’s going to reach out soon. Trust me.” 

“I don’t want nor do I need her too. Once I break up with a woman, I never look back.” I explained. 

“So you’re done, done?”

“Yeah. How many times do I gotta tell you? You saw how unhappy I was with her, why do you have such a hard time believing that?” I asked. 

“I don’t know. Usually when couples break up, there’s always that period where both people are having a hard time letting go. That’s all. You don’t have to get so upset about it.” 

“Ain’t nobody upset. I’m just trying to get you to understand that I don’t need her or anybody else for that matter. So I have no reason to return back to something I already spent so much time trying to fix.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“No. Don’t do that.” I said. 

“Do what?” 

“That trying to act all timid shit because I just proved a point you ain’t want to hear. You’re not sorry. You’re just saying it to make me feel bad.”

“I’m not trying to be timid, Los. I was just trying to understand where you were coming from. That’s all.” 

There’s nothing more frustrating than having a conversation with a woman and then she tries to flip it back on you, make you the bad guy, and make herself the scared little girl just because you made a valid point, and she now feels silly for trying to prove her point in the first place. Women do this all the time, and I gotta be honest, I was really disappointed to see Kim do it just now. It made me realize that no matter how cool Kim and I were, she would always revert to being a damsel in distress when it was to her benefit. But I’m supposed to believe that this girl loved me? She was in love with the idea of me. Not Los Cruz. 

“How’s your daughter been?” I asked as I took a bite from a slice of bacon. 

“Los, please don’t ask about my daughter unless you really care.” Kim said in a tone that I didn’t appreciate. 

“What are you talking about? You know good and well I care about her.”

“Okay.” 

“Just because I ain’t say I love you back, you’re going to act like everything else about me is disingenuous?” I asked. 

“Why are you trying to argue with me so bad?” Kim asked. 

“I’m not trying to argue with you. You’re the one making statements that have no truth to them.” I explained. “You’re going out of your way to argue with me.” 

“Look, let’s just enjoy our breakfast. I have a long day ahead of me, and I didn’t come here with you to make it longer.” 

Kim wasn’t being fair. But I knew no matter how hard I tried to prove my point, she would only see things for how she’s already decided to see them. We continued eating in silence until we eventually finished our plates. I made eye contact with our waitress until she came over to ask how we were doing. I handed the waitress my Amex and asked for the check as soon as she finished her question. There was no reason for me and Kim to utter another word to one another. 

Once Kim inched her way out of the booth, she followed behind me and I got the door for her. I thought about grabbing her hand before we crossed the street, but like I had earlier, decided not to. 

[raymondvelez]

Declarations

Michelle is one of those girls who’s always looking for the next best thing. Whatever situation she sees herself in, good or bad, there’s always a way she can improve upon it. Got a great job with flexible hours and a generous retirement plan that matches up to 6% of your contribution? There just has to be another one that offers the same plan but pays more annually with more vacation time. Spot a parking space in a crowded parking lot on a Sunday that’s easy to pull right in? There just gotta be one that’s closer to the store and the shopping carts. Got a boyfriend that takes initiative and plans out the entire date night? Why can’t Los Cruz find a restaurant with a five-star review and a rooftop overseeing the Chicago skyline? 

So when my relationship with my girlfriend started to feel like we had hit a rough patch that started to feel stagnant and routine, I knew it was only a matter of time before Michelle would eventually try to explore her options. Afterall, having separate apartments is nice because it gives us time to miss each other, but we can’t start building equity until I sign for that condo in Lincoln Park I can’t afford on my own unless I get that job at that investment firm I’ve been interviewing for. So I better pass my series 7 exam because what woman in her thirties wants to date a man for longer than two years without any possibility of an engagement ring? Anything longer than that and I’m standing in the way of her future husband that God already has picked for her. 

That’s why when I heard the doorbell ring and I let Michelle into my apartment and she made her way straight for my bathroom to finish her makeup without kissing me, despite her already being thirty minutes late, I knew better than to not feel somewhat uneasy. Michelle may be a lot of things but tardy was not one of them. And her not greeting me with a kiss? She hadn’t done that since that one time she had to pee really bad and had to run straight for my bathroom in fear that she wouldn’t make it if she walked. But that was just the thing. She didn’t have to pee that bad. As a matter of fact, when I didn’t hear her slam the bathroom door shut, I pretended to need to get something to drink from the fridge so I would have an excuse to pass by a bathroom that was occupied by a distracted Michelle fixing her eyelashes. Michelle is one of those glamour girls who take pride in their social media like appearance, so her fixating on such detail wasn’t unusual. But her closing the bathroom door when I passed by again and saw her texting while smiling was. I heard her put the toilet seat down, but I think it was all for show because I never heard the toilet flush, or the faucet come on for her to wash her hands. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Michelle peed and forgot to wash her hands. That’s just not who she is. Cleanliness is next to Godliness and Michelle was convinced that she had fallen from the sky and that her wings would be returned to her the moment her wedding bells finally rang. 

I was already dressed and ready to go to dinner, so I had nothing else to do except sit in the sala and wait. But the longer it took for Michelle to come out of the bathroom, the more I wanted to get out of my dress shoes and put my basketball shorts back on. Because it wasn’t likely we’d make it to our reservation in time and I knew better than to rush perfection. Normally when I waited for Michelle to put the finishing touches on her eyeliner, I just watched ESPN and had another glass of wine while occasionally standing in the doorway of the bathroom to watch her apply her lipstick. I always appreciated having a beautiful girlfriend take additional time to look her best for me. I really did. But for the first time in our two year and five-month relationship, I got the impression that Michelle wasn’t nearly as concerned about my attention as she typically was. In fact, the more I thought about it the more I began to recall additional changes in Michelle’s habits recently. For instance, Michelle and I tend to go to each other’s apartments at least once a week and we’ll cook together. She has this old cookbook her grandma gave her that has all these southern recipes that she really loves using. I look forward to this weekly because not only are all the recipes great, but it gives me and Michelle a chance to grocery shop together and go on a scavenger hunt for everything required. I’ll push the shopping cart and just follow Michelle’s lead because I’ve learned very early in our relationship that Michelle knows what exactly what is needed when it comes to not only life, but in the kitchen as well. I’m not going to lie though. I love spending all types of time with my girl, so I really have nothing to complain about in that regard. We just be in the kitchen having a ball. I usually chop up the vegetables while my baby will handle the measuring cups and mixing bowls getting everything just right. But lately, that hasn’t been the case. In fact, I haven’t slept over her apartment in about a month now. And judging by how things have been going recently, I doubt she was spending the night at mine tonight. 

My iphone let off one of those calendar reminders concerning our dinner plans. That was my queue to walk over to the bathroom and see how much more time Michelle needed. 

“Babe, our reservation is in 10 minutes. Even if we leave now, we’re gonna be late.” I said through the door. 

Michelle opened the bathroom door so I could see that she was still working on her makeup. She didn’t didn’t even look in my direction. She just kept looking into the mirror as she reached for her lipstick. 

“That’s okay, babe. Can you just call and cancel it? I have a backup spot we can go to. I’m not that hungry anyway.” Michelle said. 

“What you mean you not that hungry? What you do? Scarf a grilled cheese sandwich while you was on the way?” I asked. 

“I mean I can eat. I’m just not starving.” 

“What’s the name of the backup spot you were talking about so I can reserve us a table.”

“They don’t take reservations. It’s a very chill spot.” Michelle said never taking her attention from the mirror. 

As Michelle applied her lipstick, my stomach began to turn. I had that feeling you get in your gut when you’re on a roller coaster and you underestimate how high the first drop actually is. Michelle’s hair was in what I think women describe as layers. Michelle styles her burnt orange colored hair in a variety of ways, but when it’s down and straightened the way she had it right now, it’s usually a special occasion or we’re meeting up with her friends. I couldn’t help but feel slighted. I couldn’t prove it, but I knew that she didn’t style her hair this way for me. We weren’t meeting up with her friends, and today was just another random Saturday night as far as I knew. 

I leaned against the doorway of the bathroom and just watched my girl stare into her reflection like I wasn’t there. It never occurred to me that Michelle was unhappy with me. Sure, there were things I could improve upon. Maybe I do read too much and focus heavily on things that don’t equate to advancing my banking career. But the truth was I made a comfortable living, the rent was always paid on time, and I liked being able to use my nights to write for the Chicago Reader. I currently had an internship with them, but it was non-paid, and they didn’t always publish my articles. In fact, they had only published one review I got to write because none of the staff writers wanted to go to a Dom Kennedy concert at the Metro. I was now certain that I had put off studying for my Series 7 exam for far too long. I realized that I wasn’t just trying to secure a promotion at an investment firm, I was now trying to sustain a relationship with who I was certain was my future wife. 

“Babe, I been doing really well at the firm so far. I forgot to tell you. I passed my SIE exam last Thursday.” I said. 

“That’s awesome baby.” Michelle replied while never taking the time to look my way. 

“Yeah. My market leader was also impressed with my cold calling. I closed 5 accounts for him last week. That’s a lot for someone who just started. I also been helping him increase his pipeline because the lead list I created was a majority of warm leads.” I explained. 

Michelle was now running her fingers through the flow of her hair like she was getting ready for prom. And I was beginning to feel like her prom date she really ain’t wanna go with, but she knew my parents would pay for our limo, so she said yes anyway. 

“Babe, are you mad at me?” I continued. 

“No. Why would I be mad at you?” 

“I don’t know. Just wanted to make sure. I just want to make sure we good.” I explained. 

“Why wouldn’t we be good, Los?” 

“I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure, Babe.” 

I started to feel embarrassed. I know nobody else was around except Michelle and I, but still, I hate not always being sharp and on point. Here I was creating scenarios that couldn’t be further from my so-called girlfriend’s mind, and I was trying to convince her and myself that my insecurities were right. Even if Michelle was disappointed in me at some point, she was probably over it. And if she wasn’t, she wasn’t going to admit to it right now. 

“I love you, Babe.”

“I love you too, Los.” 

I didn’t know what else to say. Maybe my insecurities were just getting the best of me. I know Michelle loved me. I’m not the best man Michelle could have, but I’m certainly not the worst. So maybe I spent a lot of my time prioritizing my artistic endeavors over us, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t pivot to being the man she ultimately wanted me to be. I mean, I was literally right there. Afterall, I found an investment firm to hire me. I just needed a couple more licenses and a few profitable quarters and I’d be on my way to not only being able to afford quite an impressive engagement ring, but that condo in Lincoln Park as well. You see, the truth is, I’m actually quite the talented banker. I’ve just been a little distracted because I really love journalism and banker’s hours were super conducive to my growth as a writer. But I have to be honest with myself and understand that the life of a writer rarely ever pays the bills. I was fortunate enough to be able to not just make a living but live an affluent life in beautiful neighborhoods where the potholes get covered immediately, and Michelle and I could send our bi-racial children to a quality public school because the taxes are higher in gentrified neighborhoods. 

“Babe, you look beautiful.” I said. 

“Thank you, Papi.” 

Michelle really did look beautiful. I wasn’t just saying it. I just hadn’t told her in a while because I was so distracted from studying annuities and call options and writing reviews no one would read, that I allowed my girl to feel neglected. Her hair honestly was quite the sight. I’ve dated numerous women with absolute beautiful hair, but not like my girlfriend’s. Michelle’s hair is gorgeous. Running my fingers through my baby’s hair while we lay in bed and watch reruns of America’s Next Top Model because it’s my baby’s turn to pick our show, is one of my favorite pastimes. I loved her hair so much I even recalled myself going easy on the way I yanked it when I was giving her back shots because God forbid I damaged it in some way, I could never forgive myself. Not that our rough sex was actually so rough that I would actually damage her follicles, but more that when you subconsciously find something to be so precious, you find yourself being reserved when it comes to how to handle it. Maybe that’s where me and Michelle went wrong. I had gotten so accustomed to treating my girl like the delicate flower that I knew she actually was, that I had forgotten that no matter how sweet and sensitive a woman is, she still and will always need to be fucked like you hated her. I don’t mean you fuck your girl in a misogynistic way, that’s not cool at all. But girls do want to be fucked in the same fashion that a misogynist would fuck them without you acting and making them feel that you’re an actual misogynist. I know it sounds confusing, but trust me, the more you learn about women and their complexities, the more this description of a women’s sexual preferences will make sense. 

“So, did you ever decide if we’re still going to that work event for your job. I picked up my suit from the cleaners and already put my business cards in the inside pocket of my blazer.” I explained. 

“Umm, I haven’t decided yet.” Michelle said. 

“You sure? Could be fun. Last year the food and drinks were pretty good.” 

“I know. But I’m not sure if I want to stay with the company.”

“What? But you just interviewed for that one position.” I explained. 

“Yeah, and I didn’t get it. And I don’t want to stay a project manager for the rest of my life, Los.” 

“Babe, you’ve only been with the company for a year and a half. You’ll get other opportunities. Have you talked with your manager about how you can improve?”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now. I’ll just update my resume, test the job market and see what’s out there.” Michelle expressed.

“I get it. But it is a good company, Babe. I would consider sticking it out. I can tell your manager likes you. And she seems like she’s doing what she can to develop you.” 

“She’s a hater. She clearly afraid I’m going to take her job. Fuck her.” 

“I mean that’s a possibility too. Only you can gauge her authenticity.” I said. 

I really felt that Michelle was in a great place in her career and that she had more reason than not to be supper excited about the possibilities of advancement. But maybe I was the last person on earth to help her realize that because it had become painfully obvious that she didn’t see me as ambitious as I actually was. I prioritized things that didn’t necessarily elevate me financially. Nobody cares about what you’re good at unless you can make money from it. And even though, ironically enough, I was good at something that could make money, Michelle would never unsee how okay I was with not making it, even though I was more than capable in the first place. In fact, I’m willing to bet that my recent influx of money actually made her angrier. No woman wants a Chanel bag from a man when he clearly could have gotten her one sooner and simply chose not to. Sure, she’s still going to take the bag. But it’s just in her best interest to make sure that she’s always in position to receive one. And if I was half the talented banker I saw myself to be, I would be able to understand these circumstances with no issue whatsoever. 

I walked back to the sala and just dropped myself on my couch not sure if I even wanted to go out anymore. Maybe I would stay home and let Michelle hang out with whoever it was she really wanted to hang out with. I preferred for it to be with me. But if it wasn’t, I was more than willing to accept that as well. 

[raymondvelez]

This time around

My name is Brenda Ortiz. And before this bum ass nigga Los Cruz tries to give you his side of the story and play victim like he always does; I want you to hear it from me first. Me and Los used to mess around. But we never got serious because to be honest, I always thought he was just a sensitive ass nigga. Sure, he was a perfect gentleman, but there was just something about his energy that just never sat right with me. Los can just be done getting some pussy and he’s still walking around frowning like his puppy died or some shit. And this pussy ain’t regular pussy. Motherfuckers would pay to fuck on me. So that was already something that kind of frustrated me because no woman wants to feel unappreciated. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of nonchalant ass niggas who wanna front like you ain’t the baddest bitch they ever bagged so they can manipulate you. But that’s not Los. This mufucker really believes his bullshit. So I always just kept him around because he was always in between girlfriends and once you could get him to put the books down and leave the house, he was actually really nice to be around.

It's obvious some bad shit must have happened to him when he was little or something. But you gotta snap out of that shit. He ain’t the only one with trauma. My mom used to beat the shit out of me just because her boyfriends would get caught checking me out. I used to have to wear hoodies in the sala in the middle of July with no A/C just to ensure my mom’s gross ass boyfriend wouldn’t try nothing behind my mom’s back. So miss me with that trauma shit! We don’t cry on this side!

Look, I’m not here to tear this man down because he really ain’t do nothing wrong except disappoint me. He actually got a lot of potential if he can just stop writing his thoughts down like a little schoolgirl and just be more assertive. But I’m sure he’s gonna write in his little journal about how I used him and played in his face. But if he’s honest with himself, he’ll admit that eventually all good things eventually come to an end. And whatever it was he thinks we were, was no exception.

[raymondvelez]

Bertolli's 🍕

“Los, what’s wrong? I can tell you’re lost in deep thought.”

“Nothing’s wrong, babe.” I replied.

I grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels not because I was looking for something else to watch besides the Cubs, but because it felt like the only reasonable thing to do to was occupy my lack of action in the last hour or so. I know what you’re thinking, if you’re watching the Cubs game, how does your girl know your wheels are turning so fast? Isn’t sports the only place left where men can mindlessly gaze for hours without interruption or judgement? Well, to put things in perspective, the game had finished an hour ago and I was now blankly staring at the painting Sandra had gifted me. No, Natalie had no idea I had lost the last thirty-five minutes of my time gazing at a frame gifted from an ex it took mad months to get over. She hadn’t a single clue. But what she did know, was that I wasn’t focused on anything of importance, and that now that the Cubs were done playing, it meant that it was time for me to direct whatever measure of focus I had left available, to her. No matter how small.

Natalie is a real woman. She’s almost forty with no children, does her own hair and nails so she can have more disposable income to save for retirement, and never been married because she spent her entire adulthood focusing exclusively on writing columns and teaching philosophy at community colleges. Only reason why we met is because I was the banker who helped her consolidate credit card debt she racked up while in grad school at Loyola. My review on Solange’s performance at the Metro I wrote for Unrated Magazine a couple years ago has nothing to do with why we’re currently dating, unfortunately. Either way, she was at that show that night as well; so knowing that we were in the same building the same night, 6 years before we met, provides her the dissolution that we’re meant to be.

Even though Natalie is affectionate enough to relax her head against my chest while I mindlessly search through documentaries on Amazon Prime that I know will ultimately bore her, I go through the endless selection anyway.

“Babe, I don’t wanna watch that. Let’s watch America’s Next Top Model. It’s my turn to choose.” Natalie explains.

“Babe, I’m hungry.” I reply before handing over the remote.

“What do you want to eat, baby?”

“Let’s get Bertollis”

“Boy, we do not live in Oak Park anymore. You know good and well they won’t deliver all the way over here. We’d have to pick it up. And I know you don’t feel like driving right now. What else you thinking?” Natalie asked.

I wasn’t thinking much about anything else to be honest. All I knew was that I was hungry for pizza and that was the only place I wanted to order from right now. I don’t know why I was so fixated on this restaurant anyway. Mama Lunas, Festa and Congress were all minutes away driving, yet I couldn’t get myself to make the call to either of them. It was like my mind was stuck or something. Like I couldn’t move on. I know it’s just pizza. But sometimes pizza parlors in certain neighborhoods where you spent time making memories you didn’t expect to cherish, provide a delayed response of appreciation.

[raymondvelez]

Bottles in the hallway

Okay. So the truth is this. Before I grew up and changed my life around, I used to be in these streets. No bitches, not like that. That’s ya’ll ho ass girls these days. I mean I was in these streets getting real money. I’m talking it’s 1990 and I’m putting niggas on. Yes, I was really getting it like that. And yes, given the year, it was crack and only crack. Look, Before I became a banker and dealt with mortgage collapses and recessions, I was taking full advantage of another epidemic. As a matter of fact, this was actually the last weekend before I was finally starting my very first job as a banker. Liberty Savings in Logan Square was the first bank I worked at. And I was gonna start on Monday. But on this particular day, it was Saturday morning and I was getting rid of the last of my work to an ex-boyfriend of mine in the Lakeview projects. Oh yeah. My business card currently says Jacklyn Hernandez Vice President of Financial Sales and Services but I usually just go by Jacky. Anyway, it’s like fucking 8 in the morning and as I approach the third floor staircase of those urine stained steps, I noticed a baby bottle on the floor. Not too suspicious, cause let’s be honest it’s the fucking projects right? Anyway, so I get to the top of the 3rd floor and who do I see at the end of the hallway? A two, maybe three year old Los Cruz barefoot in nothing but Mickey Mouse Huggies screaming bloody murder. I’m not gonna lie, one of his Titis was a customer of mine. So I had seen him around before but he always seemed safe because his cousins were always watching him when they weren’t too busy fucking the dealers who worked for me. Anyway, I immediately pick him up and he stops crying instantly.

“Where’s your cousins?” I asked him not expecting him to talk yet. And he didn’t. But he pointed to the door of the apartment I knew he lived in. I start banging on the door cause at this point I’m pissed. No answer.

“What’s your name, Papa?” I asked him rhetorically using a baby voice.

“Carlos.” He mumbled.

I banged on the door even harder. Still no answer. At this point I can’t just leave him by himself. But I can’t call the police because the trunk of my- - I had a GMC Suburban at the time; but it was full of enough kilos to put me away for 20 years at least. Anyway, I decide to go back to my truck and hold on to him and maybe somebody will come outside looking for him.

“How the fuck he get away, nigga!” I heard a lady say downstairs.

I started to rush down the stairs thinking it was one of his family members but it wasn’t. It was two fucking hypes. I’d never seen them before but the male hype was holding the baby bottle I spotted earlier. When they saw me carrying Los as I came down the stairs, they both took off running. My heart dropped when I saw this because I knew something bad was just about to happen to him and didn’t or possibly already had. Something told me to go back upstairs and try knocking on the apartment door one more time before I took him to my truck. But by the time I got to his floor, a door opens up way down the hall about 7 doors from little Los’ apartment. And guess who pops out? My ex bf and Los’ cousin Tanya who usually babysits him.

“There he goes!” My ex said.

Tanya’s hair was a total mess and she had one Air Jordan on as she limped over. Tanya reached over to grab Los without saying a word to me and I pulled him back from her like he was my own son.

“Bitch, where were you?! He could have got kidnapped.” I shouted.

Tanya smelled like weed and looked like she had been laying down all day. Tanya eventually grabbed Los from me and went to her apartment without a word to me or my ex.

“You’re fucking her too, huh?” I said.

David gave me the same old dumb look he always gave me when he was about to lie.

“Don’t say anything, nigga. I don’t even wanna hear it. Just get the bags out the truck and have my money ready in 6 months.” I said handing him my keys.

[raymondvelez]

2 Owls

“Can I get 2 grape-flavored white owls?” I said sliding a twenty on the counter.

The gas station clerk grabbed two cigars from off the wall behind him and about $17 worth of change out the cash register. I stuffed the change in my jacket pocket and kept the blunts in my hand as I walked back to my BMW with expired plates. I hadn’t driven my car in a while so the gas tank was still practically full. This was one of those mandatory joy rides you had to make on a vintage foreign car because when you don’t drive a car enough and just leave it sitting, all type of stuff start happening to the transmission and what not.

I never drive too far. Just a few miles around Logan Square or Humboldt Park. I’ll usually just let my sister drive and I ride shotgun to stay out of trouble. But my sister was out of town and I needed to get out the house anyway.

I wasn’t good at rolling so I was rolling on the way to pick up Lisa cause I hadn’t seen her since our college days at Northwestern. I would write her English Papers and she would write my Biology papers. She became a nurse. And I became a greedy banker because being a teacher wasn’t going to cut it when I had lawyer fees. She had just moved back to the hood too. But her stint was looking more permanent cause her father got really sick and it honestly just wasn’t looking good for Mr. Reyes. Student loans and medical bills don’t stop. But neither can you. You know?

I pulled up in front of Lisa’s child home apartment on Drake. She popped right out. Lisa is a very attractive woman but it’s like life made her forget it. Kids, abusive baby daddies and life can do that to you. Lisa was hiding her eyes behind huge reading glasses, a northwestern hoodie and Jordan 9’s. It was like she got dressed using whatever I had in my closet. Her pony tail was messy too.

“Hey Los.” Lisa said after pecking my cheek.

“Sup, Lisa.” I said handing her the blunts and the eighth I had just bought. “There’s some cd’s in my glovebox you could use.”

“Damn. Right to the point, huh? No how are you?” Lisa said digging in my glovebox.

“You know I’m pressed for time and I can’t get pulled over.” I replied. “How’s your dad?”

“I don’t want to talk about my dad.” Lisa replied.

Lisa pulled out my copy of The College Dropout and started breaking everything up on the booklet.

“Why you playing V103?” Lisa asked.

“Cause it’s night time and I like to relax at night. Everything ain’t about turning up.”

“I’m not trying to turn up either. But damn. This song old asf.”

The radio was playing “Remind Me” by Patrice Rushen and I did not want to change the station cause I really loved this song. It was literally one of my favorite songs ever.

“What you tryna hear?” I asked.

“You can leave it.” Lisa replied already licking the blunt.

I kept on Armitage until I saw Margie’s Candies and then made a right on Western so we could smoke in Humboldt Park by the Paseo Boriqua signs on California.

Once we parked, we lit the blunt and took several puffs each in silence. We were still as tight as we were in College. Distance and years of no communication couldn’t change that. We were family.

“Why you so quiet, nigga?” Lisa asked.

“You quiet too!” I replied.

“How are you, though?” Lisa asked. “You always checking on me which I appreciate and all. But you gotta start making things more about you, Papa.”

“Here we go.” I replied. “Look, I’m good. Never better.”

“If you say so, Los Cruz.”

“The whole government?” I asked laughing.

“The whole government.” Lisa replied matter-of-factly.

Once the blunt was finished, I opened the sun roof to let in some fresh air. I was taken back by how bright the stars were. And despite being hidden behind clouds, the moon was still visible in a subtle, but still beautiful way.

[raymondvelez]

Carnicerías Jimenez

I just needed a few things. Some more eggs, some chicken breast and a couple 2 liters of RC Cola. I was just about to leave my place in line to go back and get some Vitner’s Hot Crunchy Curls but the cashier was ringing everybody up and getting them out the door fast.

“Los?! Is that you?! What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in forever!” Laura said adjusting her apron.

Me and Laura go way back. We went to Darwin Elementary together and I’ve basically known her since 3rd grade. She was always so nice to me and I would even print out her homework assignments for her and bring em the next day to school cause she ain’t have a printer at home. If I’m not mistaking, I’m pretty positive one of her floppy disks from 8th grade is still on my mom’s desk full of old book reports. I never got to print out her essays and term papers cause my mom put me in a private High School and we lost touch.

“Hey Laura! How you been?!” I replied.

As I started laying my merchandise on the conveyor belt, Laura came around and greeted me with a much needed hug. She didn’t know it, but I couldn’t have been happier to have run into her. I miss having people like her in my life. Laura is one of those girls that stood out of trouble with the girls who started drama, never went to the basement house parties and always wore her hair in those crunchy curls Puerto Rican girls get by using hella hairspray.

“I been good. Just back in the neighborhood helping my mom with her real estate. She’s tryna sell her properties and retire in Puerto Rico soon.” I replied.

“That’s awesome! But I’m sad to see her go. She’s so sweet. She’s always in here bragging about you. By the way, I’m sorry about your loss. I went to the funeral but I got there too late and you were already - -“

“It’s okay. I promise. I’m good.” I said cutting her off.

I didn’t want to talk about my dad. I don’t even wanna talk about it to ya’ll. We weren’t always on the best terms and I just barely made peace with his departure.

“I heard you had a daughter. How old is she now?” I asked grabbing my groceries.

Laura responded by pulling out her iPhone and showing me her lockscreen of a young toddler just like a proud mama would.

“She’s two.” Laura said.

“She’s beautiful. Just like her mama.” I replied.

Laura gently tapped her heart as I said this and came over to give me one last hug I couldn’t reciprocate because both my hands were now holding plastic bags.

I wanted to invite her over the house for dinner but I couldn’t bring myself to ask her. And honestly, as much as I miss me and Laura’s friendship, I don’t miss the memories she’ll come with if I allow her back in my life.

[raymondvelez]

Puppy Dawg Eyes. Part 4

I don’t know what the direct correlation was to women, wives and baby mamas of drug dealers, murderers and gang bangers wanting to lay in bed with me and watch Turner Classic Movies while we ate pizza and drank wine was, but here I was again; in Forest Park, candles lit and incense burning drowning out the scent of my cologne until her wine hit and now Samantha slowly inching over getting closer to me.

“Los, this movie is kinda boring.” Samantha said sweetly.

“My fault. What you wanna watch?” I asked reaching for the remote off the coffee table.

“Nothing. We can finish it.” Samantha said before letting out a girlish giggle.

What shorty was really tryna say is that she had no interest in the movie, but it’s all good because the wine is starting to kick in and she ain’t come to watch no movies anyway. I mean, you can never be too sure until you know for sure, but I was getting a strong sense of dejavu.

A couple more boring scenes later, Samantha eventually grabbed my face softly and gently turned it in the direction of her now seductive, brown eyes. I kiss a lot of lips before I use tongue but Samantha wasn’t even tryna have foreplay like that. Once she hopped on my lap to face me and make out some more, it became evident that she had very little time to waste. Sometimes I forget that women have to pay for baby sitters just to see me and they trying to get they money’s worth.

I think something is wrong with me. Sometimes I really just be trying to hang out. My bedroom door was closed but she turned that knob like she knew exactly where my bedroom was. She couldn’t have. But my apartment is a 2-bedroom and she had a 50/50 shot of being right. Lucky guess I guess.

We entered a bedroom of a rarely but currently made bed, more scented candles burning and a nightstand with the top drawer filled with just enough condoms and way too many pairs of Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

I started to slowly remove Samantha’s clothes. I normally start with removing a woman’s top first, but something told me I shouldn’t even waste time doing that and just go straight for her jeans and panties.

“Los, what’s wrong?” Samantha asked me. “What you mean?” I asked.

“Are you not into me?”

“Of course I’m into you.” I replied.

“Then why do you look like your puppy just died?”

I just stared back at Samantha mindlessly with nothing to say because I didn’t really know how to respond to that statement. All I knew was that I just wanted to go home. And I did’t really know where that was anymore. Or if I even remembered the way.

[raymondvelez]

Puppy Dawg Eyes. Part 3

“Baby, what day are you coming back?” I asked Michelle.

“I told you like 3 times, babe. Tuesday the 22nd. You don’t listen to me.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” I replied softly.

Michelle was laying on my chest as we relaxed on the couch. She was scrolling through reels on her Instagram just laughing like an evil villain at everything she watched. It was like every 30 seconds or so, she’d laugh like she’d just witnessed the funniest thing she’d ever seen on the planet. Then it dawned on me that Michelle kinda stopped sending me reels to my DMs. Every day for months I’d wake up to at least 3 of them. Most of them wedding ideas and clips breaking down the cost of real estate in Texas. But lately, she hadn’t really been sending them anymore.

“I have to leave in a half hour. It’s almost 11 and - - “

“I know. You have to walk your precious poodle.” I replied staring at my writer’s space that always seemed abandoned no matter how many pages I got done that day.

“Not my man being jealous of my dog.” Michelle challenged.

She had just caught her breathe from all her laughing and I was sensing Michelle’s familiar sarcastic tone challenging me again. I never really minded Michelle’s sarcasm. I mean after all, her wit and charm were two of the biggest reasons I was even considering moving to Texas and starting a new life with her.

Michelle began rubbing the side of my head while still giving her iPhone full attention. The constant rubbing of the side of my fade was a soothing form of support I’d grown to rely on; but innately knew, I could no longer lean on.

[raymondvelez]

I don’t get to see my cousin as often as I used to. She’s just a couple years older than I but she’s already dating college guys. So our friend circles have changed drastically since she became a senior. Either way, I still love my cousin very much and I tend to trust her judgement when it comes to well; just about anything. Is she slightly overprotective of me? Hell yeah. I got in honors classes freshman year and now I gotta carry the whole Cruz family legacy on my back it seems. That’s why when Anais pulled me to the side in the hallway, even though the bell had just rang, I knew I wasn’t gonna wanna hear what she was about to tell me.

“Is it true you’re messing around with that Irma bitch?” Anais asked while pinning me against my locker.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And don’t call her bitch.” I replied.

“Oh my God! You are.” Anais shouted. “How in the fuck did you get mixed up with someone like her?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked playing dumb.

“Los, I don’t even wanna know how you met her or what the hell she sees in your dorky ass. But you need to end whatever the fuck it is that ya’ll got going on. And I mean today.” Anais insisted.

“We’re just friends. Why you trippin?” I asked.

Irma and I are more than friends. As a matter of fact, she’s practically my girlfriend. We’ve done everything except sex.

“Los, that’s Pucho’s girl. That bitch is a Latin Queen and she’s had grown ass men set up.”

“You’re lying. And stop calling her bitch. You’re just hating.” I said.

My cousin doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Me and Irma talk on the phone everyday. I would know if she gang banged.

“Why I gotta lie to you? Remember that funeral we went to for that guy who got shot coming out of Jimmy’s Red Hots?” Anais asked sounding super frustrated.

“Yeah.” I replied.

“Who do you think asked him to go pick up those hot dogs and fries?”

Anais still had me pinned to my locker. So when some random teacher passed by and asked what was going on, I was relieved. I just wanted to go to class and forget everything my cousin had just told me. I had that feeling in my stomach you get when you receive really bad news. I was pretty sure my cousin was wrong, but just the thought of Irma being someone else’s girl made me sick to my stomach.