When the White Boy Went to the Quiceñera Part TWO

By Bianca Arce Class of 2020

Click here for part one!


“Hey, Son! Where’s your vest?” yelled my father from his downward dog. I stopped at the front door, reluctantly walking back to the living room where my father was doing his daily yoga.

“Oh, uh, Ely said that I would have a hard time fitting in with one on. Besides Dad, who even wears vests anymore? I’m not going to a wedding.”

“Ok! Mr. Fashion Police, sorry if my classy suit is too much for you. That suit-” he said in his cobra position, “-in its day was a real lady magnet. Without it, you wouldn’t have been conceived my boy.”

From the home office I could hear my mom cackling and soon after started choking on her coffee.

“Don’t laugh Claire-” his voice was now mumbled as he sat in childs pose, and I, was getting increasingly annoyed.

My mother came out if the kitchen rubbing club soda over her large coffee stain. “Do you have the address?” I patted my left breast pocket and mumbled a “yep”. My dad stood up, taking out his yoga pants wedgie and standing next to my mother. They were quite a sight.

“Now, you have fun at this party ok? Be sure to dance and mingle, don’t feel the need to be a macho in front of your girlfriend.” My mother adjusted my glasses, moving her hand to caress my cheek. “Oh, you look so handsome. I hope Ely appreciates what she has.” I gave her a smile and she lit up, hugging me without giving me eye contact. She backed up and my dad stepped in.

He placed a firm grip onto my shoulder and looked into my eyes. “No kissing, no feeling up, no non-consensual sex, no-”

“Dad! What the heck? It’s a birthday, what do you think I’m going to do there?”

“You’re a young boy, and I’m not going to pretend I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours.”

“Ok I’m leaving. And it’s NOT so I can seduce my girlfriend at her cousins party, but so I can immerse myself in a rich culture that doesn’t involve skin tight leggings, for crying out loud Dad!” he grabbed a towel from the floor and covered his groin area. If I hadn’t asked him to cover up, knowing my mother, she’d probably start comparing it to mine.

I kiss both of my parents and take the car keys from the Bob Ross figurine they were hanging off of. “¡Adios mi amigos!” I said before closing the door.

“They’re going to destroy him.” said my mother before I stepped off the porch.


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