Yes, you read correctly

I walk my white french poodle every day around lunch time.  Lunch time in Mexico is around 3pm.  Yesterday the two of us were strolling down the Malecon (a cemented boardwalk here, pronounced Mal-ah-cone) when we passed a corner of three or four taxi drivers waiting for their next jolly tourist.  I had no idea at the time, but I was about to be violated by the oldest taxi driver!!!  I’d say he has about 58 years– despite my preference being a little on the older side, still a bit too old for my taste.

You know what I mean, right?

My white french poodle and I passed very close to the three or four taxi drivers when the 58 year old mustached taxi man said, “Ay what a prettty poodle, can I touch it?”

Sometimes I run into some obsure people on the malecon, but it’s hard to just say “beat it pal,” when someone asks to pet your poodle.  BUT before I even gave mustache man permission, he reached up under the back of MY shirt and grabbed my TUCHAS, disregarded my white french poodle altogether and said, “Ah, muy bonito”.  My french poodle is female.  I think the 58 year old mustache taxi man was referring to ME and my beautiful behind.

I was left too confused to feel violated. 

Oh, and I saw mustache man again today.  He didn’t talk to me or my white french poodle.  But just as the above grafitti from Portland, OR states, “F U mustache man…I still hate you.  And you know exactly what you did.  Playa.”

See you tomorrow, Playa.  :-/