The Cuban Sandwich
Miami Beach, FL – 1987 – DAY ENRIQUE FIESTA, 20s, brash, reclines on a blanket. The rich woodsy skin exposed by the limited fabric of his turquoise speedo glistens under the hot Florida sun. Enrique’s eyes peek out from behind his sun glasses.
Enrique: Mamacita, caliente!
Cut To: TRISH LABUFF jogs down the beach, attracting the attention of many eyes. Trish, 20s, stands out for her full lips, ample chest, and strikingly blond Nordic features.
Cut To: Enrique sits up on his blanket captivated. PAULO SAN PAULO plops down next to him on the blanket with two sodas. Paulo, 20s, nerdy, his board shorts covering too much to titillate but just enough to make the mind wander.
Paulo: (Offering a sip of his soda) Soft drink?
Enrique: No, I’m looking for something else to drink, if you catch my drift.
Trish (O.S.) I could use a drink. It’s hot…
The two men stare at Trish above them. She grabs the bottle and wraps her lips around it.
Trish: Aghhhhh….
Enrique stands up. Faces Trish.
Enrique: (winking) I saw you running, was going to say hello, if you know what I mean.