The other week
on a Monday I was at a Mexican restaurant in my neighborhood after barhopping a
bit after teaching up at the art school, and the waitress in there was someone I didn’t know.
As soon as she
accidentally slipped in a Spanish phrase when she was taking my order, I switched to Spanish, and she seemed
like she was just tolerating me, but let me order anyhow.
“Anything to
drink?”, she was like.
“Agua sola” (‘only water’), I was like, “Sin popote” (‘without a straw’), and, as
soon as I said that last phrase, she broke out into a quick involuntary smile.
Then, she went
to rush around and help other customers.
Five minutes
later, she dropped off my water.
“There you go,”
she was like. “Sin popote.”
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