It doesn’t seem to matter where you are in the world you’ll likely hear communal moans and groans from straight women about their men; that they’re just not romantic enough. Apart from failing to recall birthdays and anniversaries boys often forget that girlies – suffragettes or not – love details. It’s the need for the small attention; the being appreciated. Yes, we’re talking flowers, chocolates, the “you smell/look/are/were really ….great” praises and compliments. But sometimes menfolk come up with feats so stunning that you have to take your hat and coat right off. Such a man is Carlos Aguilar (who lives here in Havana), the 26 year-old partner of a new Cuban friend of mine (who now, very interestingly, lives and works in the Cayman Islands).
The story goes like this: My new friend had popped over (after some months away) for a romantic weekend rendezvous with her man. And they – as you would – began with an afternoon of ardent intimacy. Immediately afterwards, and rather surprisingly, Carlos announced that he had to go out. But honey, said he, I’ll be back very shortly. It’s a surprise. Please wait right here. Promise?
Imagining a nice bottle of wine or perhaps a take away pizza, my friend was not remotely, then, prepared for what was to come. Our man finally returned 40 minutes later, gave her a big hug, took off his trousers and slid back into bed. It was only then, as he slowly removed his shirt, that she noticed the left side of his chest. There, in classic freestyle hand, was written Claritza which, as you might now have guessed is my friend’s name. She cried, he cried and, needless to say, they further engaged in what polite C18th literary folk called amorous congress. Tattoos might not do it for you but you´d have to come up with something pretty good to beat this one.