Among so many other things, a cup of coffee can be witness to so many interesting and lovely stories. Today, while I was hanging out by myself at a local coffee shopwaiting for my ride to take me home, I was thinking about the many stories I had heard in that same coffee shop. I thought I should share one for the prompt of this week.

The word "romántica" displayed in large letters on the TV screen 👆, perhaps, reminded me of a love story. A funny coincidence: I had my children's book of Aesop's fables with me 😁

The Ant and the Grasshopper Get Married

With a little twist here and there to give it that nonfiction feel, this is the story my friend told me:

In her early forties, born in a home where they might’ve spent a day without any food to eat, but did dance salsa every afternoon and never missed coffee twice a day, Gregorina had grown up with a strong attachment to her family and her town, so much so that when Pedro, her sweetheart, asked her to go away together to look for a better life, she had to say no. Among other things, her mother had been diagnose with breast cancer, and she, barely nineteen years old and to her mother's grief, had to drop out of college and go to work to help with medical and household expenses.

At her uncle Juan's bar, my friend's second husband, Gregorina waited tables for food and for $1, she danced a salsa song with anyone who showed her the bill and even let them buy her a drink. But no fondling. No, no, no. Careful not to be seen by her benefactor, Grego, as everyone called her, poured the drink into any plant pot, of which there were many in the great hall, with large palm trees. Day after day, Grego would go to the bar, wait tables, eat a bowl of beans and meat or one of soup, dance with the boozers, and get half a dozen palm trees drunk on cheap rum and beer. She’d get home at 3 a.m., put half of the bills on his mother's night table and drift into a deep sleep until noon the next day. That's how it was every day since she’d turned nineteen.

Surrounded by drunks at work and slackers in her neighborhood, every day Grego saw her hope of a either a career or a prospect, receding further and further away. But one day, just as she was ready to accept her uncle Juan's offer to start a romantic relationship with a friend of his, who, apparently, pined for her and wasn't as libidinous as he seemed, nor as disgusting once you got to know him, just that day, Pedro Guzmán walked into the bar, asking for her. Gosh, had he changed! He had a broad back and strong arms; he was not at all the little bird she remembered, the boy with a dream of becoming rich overnight without studying or working. In fact, it took her some seconds to realize who he was.

He invited her to his table and Gregorina tried to ignore and silence, without success, the voices of the crooks--who today were more crooked than ever--, "Hey, hey, here you are!", while showing a $1 bill. She tried to make Pedro not understand anything, but Pedro understood everything. He pulled out a $100 bill and told her about his successful business trading crypto.

Summer was coming to an end and as the sun went down, the temperature dropped considerably on that seashore. A true gentleman, Pedro offered Gregorina his jacket, a fine, manly, wood-scented garment. Grego thought that this was exactly how the father of her children smelled--haha. He had her completely, especially when he confessed to her that he’d always been in love with her and now that he’d seen her again, he had reaffirmed his feelings.

She had been an ant. He had been a grasshopper. And they married.

Thank you so much for your reading :)

Banner by @andresromero 🖤

All text and images are my own. I have taken the pictures with my Redmi 9T cell phone. And if any GIFs here, I've used GIPHY for all them.