"Oh my god, Zorro, I'm feeding you please stop jumping on me! My dress!" I scolded, as Zorro the welsh corgi jumped all over my perfectly lint-free Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's outfit. "If there's little paw prints I'm going to strangle you when I get home, ay dios mio, Zorro perro loco!"

I set her dish of kibbles down and she attacked the thing, kibbles flying everywhere. "You better eat every single kibble so I don't have to clean up that mess when I get home!" I sighed. Zorro was already licking up the stray kibbles, so it looked like my wish would come true.

It was another Friday night, nearly 8PM. I was waiting for Ambrose to show up, but I expected him to be late, because he had Miss Cha Cha's car tonight and it had a habit of breaking down. I crouched down and petted Zorro's back as she ate, but little fox dog growls emanated from her core, rumbling up my hand.

"Fine, ungrateful, I'm going to sit on the couch!" I tsked.

Huffing, I made my way to the living room. When I plopped onto the couch, I noticed and remembered the photo album on the side table. "Oh goodness, if I forgot you," I gasped, grabbing the photo book and hugging it to my chest in fear. I put it on my lap and opened its brand new pages.

The album was a chocolate brown and the pages were a laminated beige color. The photos were in crisply clean clear plastic slots which were taped shut at the top for extra protection. If any liquid dared enter these pages nothing would get ruined. A smile formed on my lips as I began to flip the pages one by one, slowly and looking at the subjects with care.

In almost every picture, Georgina Monroe stared up at me with a big smile on her face. But sometimes I'd find ones which were from my favorites when I was fourteen. These being when Georgina was not smiling, but instead looking far off with such a look of love on her face it made my girl heart sigh in longing. I often wondered long ago what she was looking at with such an expression, what could it possibly be, but now I believed I knew. Finally.

My heart pinched as I flipped to the last page. In the very middle all by itself was that beautiful picture of Georgina in the arms of someone who could only be her boyfriend, the Luke Brower look-a-like. He was such a handsome young man, blonde even in black in white. His cheeks were downy like Shirley Temple's and his nose was neat and just the right size. His body was slender and trim, with a lean muscularity as a hinted at mystery under his very expensive looking and sharp suit. And his hands. His hands looked like they could play the piano as a master, they just had that way about them. I wondered if he could play the piano.

Another thought brushed my mind. One I had not thought of before. "Where are you now?" I asked the picture in a whisper.

A car horn interrupted my thoughts and I gasped in a startle. Hurriedly, I closed the book and scooped it up in my arms. The car horn sounded again. "La cucaracha, la cucaracha, la la la la!" I shouted with it as I ran to the door as fast as my heels could take me. Zorro started barking immediately and going crazy. "Ay, Zorro! You're going behind the baby gate!" I warned, shoving her aside from the door with my foot.

"Zorro, preciosa perrita, aww," I heard behind the door just before it was smartly knocked on. The sounds warmed my heart even though they were directed at Zorro.

As I swung the door open to reveal the beautiful person behind, I burst into laughter. The image of giant red and yellow ruffles on sleeves and skirt and black bodice on an expertly formed woman's body structure was posed on my doorstep with castanets. Some kind of god awful hat made of plastic fruit was perched on his head like a crown.

"Dance all night, Ruiz!" Ambrose chirped in the worst Carmen Miranda drag I'd ever seen in my life.

"What the fuck...are you wearing," I laughed and gasped at the same time, trying to catch my breath.

"A giant load," Ambrose whispered, his drawn on eyebrow raising suggestively.

It took me a second to get it, but then I burst into giggles and smacked him on his voluminous shoulder. "You dirty, dirty boy!" I giggled uncontrollably, "did you come up with that all by yourself?!"

Ambrose stuck his wildly red fingernails into his little boy-like dimples and then pointed at the violently pink 70's Cadillac convertible parked next to the curb. "Time to roll, girl! You got all your stuff? You got the photo book?"

"Yes, I've got it all," I tried to say seriously, stifling my giggles in my throat while I grabbed my purse from the kitchen table. I hugged the photo album to my chest with one hand to make sure it was secure.

Ambrose led me to the car and then jumped into the driver's seat. "I feel like Latina Barbie from around the world when Barbie tried to go ethnic!" Ambrose squealed. I laid my head back on the leopard print passenger seat and just giggled with him.

"This is what stereotypes are made of, girl," I breathed, pausing, then looking around the plush interior of the car. "How did you ever get Miss Cha Cha to part with her baby?" I asked, running my gloved hand over the buttery leather dashboard in awe.

"She told me to just make sure I didn't return it on cinder blocks," Ambrose laughed. "This is her outfit, too!"

"Haha, why am I not surprised? ...Girl, you never told me you knew how to drive stick?!" I exclaimed, noticing the design of the car.

"Well of course I know how to drive stick," he winked at me.

I gasped and smacked his shoulder as he fell over giggling.

We were thrown back in our seats at that moment as Ambrose pressed the button on the tape deck. Blaring tones of a Latina diva met our eager ears.

"SELENA! MY GIRLLL!" Ambrose shrieked over the music. I started shrieking, too. We wiggled in our creamy leopard print seats. Ambrose shifted the car into drive and began shout singing, "BIDI BIDI-!"

"-BOM BOM!" I shout sang back.

"BIDI BIDI BIDI BIDI BOM BOM!" We sang together.

As we drove along, we sang with the tape at each other. At stoplights, various people started at us wide eyed. What a sight we must have been, two Latina drag queens in a top down Barbie car screaming in Spanish and dancing like we were having very fashionable seizures. But I didn't care about them. I felt so much joy in my heart, dancing with my best friend in the world, feeling the breezy New York City night against my face with him.