By EDUARDO PAZ-MARTINEZ
McALLEN, Texas |...You could waste away just like an old package of popsicles left in the fridge for more than eight years. Melissa had read that fact in the packaging, although no else had done that to confirm.
Groceries were known for fake expiration dates, like milk and sliced bread. To Melissa all that was just color in an otherwise black & gray life.
Her decision to become a Happy Hour addict after being dumped by a mediocre club musician had come hard, yet expected. Twenty-nine-year-old Melissa Hernandez's existence these days was wrapped up in bad scenes and ever-diminishing hopes. Any possibility of marriage now seemed so distant as to be, well, damned non-existent.
Her still-hot mother, super sexy uptop Juana Robledo, never did find marital happiness, even after meeting, dating and marrying five men, all as different as five distinct M&Ms.
In the bars, Melissa made no quick moves, yet she liked to think that no other woman on Earth could play erotically with a drink, the glass of a highball taking on another imagery every time she slowly lifted it up to her painted mouth.
Men would come. They always did...
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