Being Latina’s new dating blogger means two things: I can save money on therapy and I can use the blog as an excuse to date, drink and be merry! Yes chicas! I will be going out and grabbing male parts for “research”. I will speed date and double date and masturbate and do just about anything to bring the Latina.com audience the real world of dating, sex, love and relationships.
Fortunately, I don’t need to search very far to bring the juicy, entertaining stories you all love. My love life is a novela. A novela I like to call The Heart and Soul of My Dominican Pepa. A story that encompasses exes, booty buddies, men with girlfriends, friends who want to make me their girlfriends, and, of course, my pepa. My pepa, or vagina as some women call it, has stories to share, songs to sing and a drought to end! And that is exactly why I am 31, single and on my way to a Boston University party. Yes, my romantic prospects will be between the ages of 22 and 26, but I’ll take it! Since turning 30, dating has been less about free meals and more about finding meaningful connections. It’s a lot of pressure, but tonight I am open to whatever comes, even if it’s just a burger and fries. So I swipe my Charlie card, hop on the red line, and make my way to Tappen Street. Cause tonight I’m going to party like it’s literally 1999.
At the party, my high school friend and party host, Franco, introduces me to the law school students that surround the two bowls of chips and bowl of “punch”. Franco rambles their names but all I see is Jewish dude, Asian girl, other Asian girl, white girl, two black guys, and white girl next to the cute blonde-haired, blue-eyed Ken look alike. I wish I could be his Spanish Teacher Barbie. But the girl beside him locks her arm in his.
The night progresses and there are no more prospects. The two black guys are cool, but not my type. Jewish dude and the rest are loud and passionately discussing law. Even less my type. I look over at Ken again, the only guy at the party that I would allow to buy me chicken wings and French fries, but he is now making out with Hook Arm Girl. Ken is long gone, and really deep inside white Barbie’s throat.
By nights end, I realize my first night back in the free, nonchalant dating world has left me with nada. Well, not entirely. Just like in 1999, I am lucky enough to have great male friends to keep me company, make me laugh and even feed me. That’s right. I got my free meal. A free delicious hot dog and a hamburger seasoned with Adobo and pique. My pepa’s still on strike and it was no late night Dominoes or Amherst’s’ Brunos Pizza, but it will have to do. Cause that’s all a single, 31-year-old girl at a college party can ask for.