Hispanic men and white women on interracial dating
I knew we were doomed back in first grade, though, when I tore out a page from my favorite coloring book to give to him, and he happily took it and then commenced to color the entire thing black.
His lack of imagination and dark side tendencies were evident early on, but I digress.
My childhood coincided with the influx of arrivals coming from Puerto Rico that occurred during 1960-1980.
Though New York City was probably the desired destination, we had our fair share of Puerto Rican families that remained behind in my little industrial corner of the world, and for that, I’m grateful.
I felt bad to see him cry that day, and I attempted to cheer him up by taking my braids and tying them under my chin into a bow and crossing my eyes at him.
He laughed at my silliness and I fell in love with a boy whose family came from a place called Chile.
Richard was in a new school, and visibly upset with wet eyes and ruddy cheeks from crying, his last name bought him to his present location, seated among other like last named children.
Little did he know he would be cursed with spending an additional five years in close proximity to each of us, end of the alphabet, folks.
Brown, liquid, eyes, hovered beneath dark eye lashes and full dimples in his cheek when he smiled.
He’s still very attractive, unmarried, and………….where was I?
Since I don’t recall anything Earth shattering as I write this now, I presume life moved on after the coloring book incident, and I survived second grade without too much of a hitch.
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