Saturday, July 25, 2015


*written in late 2010

This time it was NOT my fault. 

During the span of a week, I gave no less than two cabronas walking papers. Fired ‘em. That’s got to be some kind of record. Thanks, but no thanks.

Almost inherited a third, … without trying.

I sent every imaginable signal: brought a book with me, wore the wrap-arounds, sported the beanie. That is the international language for LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE. 

I am getting so good at this I can sense a cabrona almost immediately. I’d say at this point it’s a talent.

She started talking to me too easily, too quickly, too soon. She made every excuse to involve herself in what I was doing. What’re you reading? she over-enthusiastically asked. I showed her the cover. What’s it about? she prodded. I smiled, answering non-verbally.

She persisted.

My first words to her were an obvious shot across her bow: That’s a nice ring, I said, pointing at her finger, the one traditionally reserved for symbols of commitment, exclusivity. This was her opportunity to get out gracefully, to leave with her esteem intact. Hahahaha.

She blanched. As the color continued to change in her face, I knew I had her.

It’s an heirloom, she answered, looking away, betraying the words still hanging in the air.

STRIKE TWO. I smiled, again.

MOMENTS BEFORE she started-in on me, I overheard her speaking on her mobile. Whoever was on the receiving end was someone important to her, someone she spoke to with keen familiarity. A boyfriend? That was my guess.

I wonder how long it took him to pick it out? I assumingly accused her while glancing at her finger suspiciously.

What? she asked with a slight crack it her voice.

He must think pretty highly of you to have placed that upon your hand. I wonder how crushed he’d be if he could see you flirting with me? I rhetorically asked.

I am NOT flirting with you, she laughed meanly. 

I grinned at her, searching her eyes for honesty I knew wasn’t there. Vacant. Nobody home. 

Fair enough, I retorted. But why, then, did you lie about the ring he gave you?

Ashen she was! Hahahahaha. 

I could hear the dogs barking from Jane’s Addiction’s Been Caught Stealing.


God it was funny. I put the book down on the table, intending to go in for the kill. She was getting VERY uncomfortable, and uncoiling myself from privacy was a sign her uneasiness was good sport for me. 

Now I was interested. 

Hello? I teased. I was absolutely loving this.

But if I am interested in YOU, why do you care about HIM? she whined.

So now you’re going to be honest? I laughed.

It was harmless. I was just playing around, she giggled.

She found a way to excuse herself, embarrassed. 

But before she left, I explained how fucked up it is to hurt someone who cares about you. I told her I’ve done it, and it’s a personal mission of mine to not participate in anything like that ever again. I told her, in cryptic sentences, about how I should have just owned up to my then-wife, bowed out, and moved on. 

And though there is MUCH more to my story, I also explained how in my personal life I never, ever see people as a means to an end. A human is an end in herself. People deserve to be treated with dignity and respect, even cabronas. 

She pretended to care. Hahahaha. Silently, she slinked away and out of my life forever.

Well, chalk one up for the good guys! 

Another cabrona thwarted! You don’t have to thank me. All in the line of duty. 

And I mean it.

Craig Edward Kelso is the author of Anarcho-Capitalism (2014), a primer on the philosophy of peaceful, stateless cooperation. His curriculum vitae include a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science from San Diego State University, and a Post-Baccalaureate secondary education credential in both Social Science and English Language Arts. Kelso taught for nearly a decade in the American public school system, and was voted by colleagues Teacher of the Year, twice in his short tenure, earning numerous accolades from chambers of commerce, mayors, state assembly persons, governors, congresspersons, senators, and even Wal-Mart. Currently he struggles to earn an opportunity to be employed, working as a laborer, dishwasher. He is deliriously happily married to Myra Kelso, living in Southern California with their adorable children. 

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