(insert pithy rejoinder here)

Romantic Monday – Ode To Erik Estrada

As a kid growing up I had lots of crushes on boys and sometimes men, most of them actors on television. One of the earliest crushes I had was on a certain Latin actor named Erik Estrada, better known as Officer Francis “Ponch” Poncherello on a little show called CHiPs.

Anyway, what I remember most about that time were my prepubescent fantasies of a chance romantic encounter with Senor Estrada. Seeing that he is Puerto Rican, I had always imagined learning to speak Spanish in order to impress him when we finally met. I envisioned a mall scenario where my bilingual ability would impress him enough to set me apart from all the other adoring fans. Enough for him to invite me into his van (Note to all you youngsters out there- all sexy guys in the 80′s had vans. And mustaches, but that’s another blog post). So for my weekly offering to Romantic Monday I bring you:

AN ODE TO ERIK ESTRADA

I stand in a line that stretches the length of the mall, sipping my Orange Julius, waiting patiently for the Latin object of my preteen desire to sign my copy of Dynamite Magazine. I size up the competition standing between me and my love while I wait. I count ten blonde heads in all.

They must have known someone to get in line in front of me, I tell myself in consolation. I’ve been here since five a.m. goddamn it. No one loves Erik Estrada more than I do.

I do little to hide my glee as I watch girl after eager girl dismissed with an autograph but without a second glance. Little by little I inch closer to the man who I am convinced will someday make me his bride. Anticipating a kiss, I pop a stick of Zebra Stripe gum into my mouth as I wait patiently for him to notice me.

Finally I reach him- sitting behind a table, his glorious dark hair feathered just so. My heart races as I pass him my magazine, intentionally brushing my hand against his as I do. He doesn’t look up as I ask for his autograph, and I can tell he thinks I am just another groupie only interested in the celebrity that surrounds him.

Oh Erik, my love, I am determined to prove you wrong!

He heaves a heavy sigh as he scribbles his name and without looking up says, “Is this it?”

I catch a glimpse of my braces reflected in the lenses of the RayBans a top his head as I smile and say, “Si.”

He slowly raises his eyes to mine. We stare at each other for what seems like forever…the two of us locked in a gaze of pure intimacy.

“You speak Spanish?” he finally asks, clearly impressed with my dedication to learning all that I can about him.

I answer clearly. “Si.”

In an instant he’s up and around the table. He grabs my hand and pulls me quickly through the crowd of jealous teenage rejects to the exit doors that empty into the alley behind the mall. There awaits a van, his van, the site of my soon-to-be epic deflowering.

He slides the door open and hops in, reaching a hand out to pull me inside. Once I’m in he slides the door closed and tells me to make myself comfortable. I lay down on a purple silk bed built into the rear of the van while he twists the cap off a wine cooler and then pushes play on a cassette tape. David Bowie’s China Girl pours out of the speakers as he hands me my Bartles & James and says, “I want you to be my only Chica…”

My voice trembles as I say, “Si.”

He takes the drink from my hand and sets it down before he pulls me in close to him. The intoxicating scent of Aqua Velva mingled with Latin machismo emanates from his skin leaving me dizzy and breathless. He breathes in deep my own scent of Jean Nate and teenage lust as his hands move slowly to my back, working their way under my shirt. My skin is soft to him and smells “delicious.” He asks if he can taste me.

My breasts heave as I say, “Si.”

Sliding his hands up my body, he brings them to my face and then leans in to place sweet, gentle kisses at the corners of my lips, his tongue working its way into my mouth, tasting me as promised. His kiss is passionate and deep and makes me feel like the woman I am desperate to be. He asks if I want more.

Our breath mingles as I pant, “Si.”

I feel the beat of his heart racing with mine and the intensity of his desire through the denim of his Jordache for Men. My hand finds its way to his manhood straining against his jeans. I let my hand linger, teasing him. He begs me to set him free.

I whisper, “Si.”

I let loose the top button just as strong hands stop me, holding me in place. My beautiful Latin lover stares down at me with dark brown eyes and whispers, “You’re eighteen, right?”

I smile as I lie.

“Si.”

FOR EVEN MORE ROMANTIC MONDAYS VISIT:

Edward Hotspur – Bittersweet Perfection

Frederique – Romance

Suzy – Romantic

Hastywords and Hotspur – Your Love Is Like…

Mimsy – Come Drink My Coffee

Sheila – Yes

Suzy – Teaching

Gin and Tulips – Uncurl Me

Running Naked With Scissors – The Drawing

The Cheeky Diva – Woooo Hoooo!!!

Hastywords – A Weekend Romance

Kayjai’s Blog – Sheila And Gilbert

PMAO – A Romantic Song

Benzeknees – Romantic Monday III

43 responses

  1. Would you love to be able to still lie, and say you’re 18?

    November 5, 2012 at 2:00 am

  2. Sometimes yes, like when there’s physical work to be done. Mostly I’d have to say no because I was an insufferable know-it-all back then. I cringe at the memory.

    November 5, 2012 at 3:52 am

  3. Oh my gosh, I thought that was so hilarious! I’m still laughing!!! He was pretty hot back in the day…and loved all the 80′s references: feathered hair, Jean Nate, B&J wine cooler..just too funny!

    November 5, 2012 at 9:08 am

    • The 80′s are way tripendicular, dude.

      November 5, 2012 at 5:27 pm

  4. Oh my! I’m all warm and tingly inside just remembering the 80s.

    Nicely done!

    November 5, 2012 at 11:17 am

  5. Tom Elias, Writer

    This is pure you, H.E. … Awesome. I am so glad you didn’t know me in the 80′s…

    November 5, 2012 at 1:20 pm

    • Not me. I’d have KILLED to have seen you with feathered hair!

      November 5, 2012 at 5:28 pm

      • Tom Elias, Writer

        It was soooo much worse than that.

        November 5, 2012 at 10:20 pm

  6. kat

    Great post, but those unicorns frightened me . . . Their buttocks were perfect.

    November 5, 2012 at 3:09 pm

    • They are a bit intimidating, huh?

      November 5, 2012 at 5:28 pm

  7. I like this… even though I can’t stand behind the whole Eric thing. And I sort of wish you would ditch the two gay dueling unicorns….

    November 5, 2012 at 4:41 pm

  8. This is just brilliant. Fabulous! I remember Dynamite magazine, and probably still have that very issue somewhere. I had similar fantasies of other early 80′s hearthrobs. This is just terrific! Thanks for the laughs and the memories.

    November 5, 2012 at 5:40 pm

    • You’re welcome! I recently found an old Tiger Beat with Ricky Martin.

      Guh…Ricky Martin…drool…

      November 5, 2012 at 5:59 pm

      • I’m loving the comments the other 80′s chicks are posting here. I had mostly Star Trek posters all over my room. I’ve also always been a sucker for an underdog, my reasoning being that if he was less than a heart throb, my chances were probably better with him, like Lance Kerwin for example. I probably would have been able to lose it in HIS van, cuz he probably didn’t have girls crawling all over him. Oh boy. I don’t think I can ever show my face here again, but at least I didn’t sneak under my baby sisters crib to read porn. ;-)

        November 5, 2012 at 6:09 pm

        • You have nothing to worry about. My blog has no shame.

          I’ll admit to not being into pretty boys (sorry, H.R.). As a kid I always had crushes on the nerds. The more awkward, the better. In fact, I just finished writing a middle-grade novella called THE ADORKABLES about a group of geeks who suddenly become the coolest group in school.

          November 5, 2012 at 6:17 pm

  9. Well this brings back memories of the posters I plastered on my wall from all my teen magazines. Each one a prize meticulously placed under my popcorned ceiling wall. OMG I die thinking of the boys I idolized Scott Baio…lol.

    November 5, 2012 at 5:50 pm

    • Ha! I remember living with my strict Catholic Navy father and hanging pics on my wall of Michael J. Fox and Kirk Cameron, all the while hiding Eddie Van Halen and Ozzy photos under my bed. I was kind of a metal head as a teen. Kinda still am, actually.

      November 5, 2012 at 5:58 pm

      • Um…I hid under my sisters crib reading porn…lol. Did I just admit that…yep…yep I did. So yea…that wasn’t going on my wall.

        November 5, 2012 at 5:59 pm

        • OMG so did I! Only it wasn’t under a crib, it was in the girl’s locker room. And it wasn’t my sister, it was my gym teacher-

          I’ve said too much.

          November 5, 2012 at 6:09 pm

          • You ladies are building a brighter future for tomorrow, you know that?

            November 5, 2012 at 7:33 pm

            • There’s a “batteries” joke in there somewhere, I can feel it.

              November 5, 2012 at 7:35 pm

              • I think “in there somewhere, I can feel it” IS the batteries joke.

                November 5, 2012 at 7:38 pm

                • Yeah, I left you open for that one.

                  …..

                  November 5, 2012 at 7:41 pm

                  • I think you left yourself open for that one… Zing!

                    November 5, 2012 at 8:10 pm

          • haha….The ones I had blacked out all the parts I wanted to see….lol. Damn soft porn.

            November 5, 2012 at 9:26 pm

  10. I laughed my ass off when I read the words “Jean Nate”. This was hot, even if a fantasy. I have a similar fantasy about Wilmer Valderrama. Who looks just like…. Hmmmm….

    Okay, one question: Are you going to write Part 2 of this next week? I like art of all kinds, but I’d especially like to see Van Go.

    November 5, 2012 at 5:59 pm

    • Wilmer? Really? I thought you were strictly Salma. Hmmm….

      I’ll think about a part two for the future. Next week is An Ode To Abe Vigoda.

      Yeah, I said it.

      November 5, 2012 at 6:11 pm

      • THAT’S IT – I’m asking for some Drakkar Noir for Christmas.

        Yes, of course Salma. Just trying to be funny. (Apparently not. Jeez.) Back in the day, Moonlighting was my favorite show, so Cybill Shepherd was my crush. The romance in that show – yes, even back then, I was heavily into romance.

        November 5, 2012 at 7:37 pm

        • Back then I was about the only person I knew who wasn’t into romance. Not sure why. I was heavy into THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW to the point of being embarrassing. Whenever I went to the theater, I was Janet. Caught a lot of colds in high school.

          November 5, 2012 at 7:41 pm

  11. Oh, and thanks for linking up all these people. My work started filtering out WordPress literally the day after the first Romantic Monday. Which would make it Tuesday. I checked.

    November 5, 2012 at 6:00 pm

    • Stoopid cock-blocking job. Almost as bad as mine.

      November 5, 2012 at 6:11 pm

  12. Pingback: Bittersweet Perfection – A Rainy Romantic Monday Post | Edward Hotspur

  13. I only hope that somehow, Erik sees this, and sends you one of his more famous sets of dentures.
    (There’s no way those teeth are real.)

    November 7, 2012 at 11:34 am

    • OMG I thought the same thing!

      November 24, 2012 at 3:26 pm

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