Ate at a Puerto Rican cafe today.

There were Puerto Rican flags everywhere, and a glass display case with Puerto Rican knick-knacks behind them. The serious youngish Puerto Rican lady behind the counter, Elvira, had a dark blue butterfly tattoed right in the crevice of her fat massive tits, and when she came up to the counter to take my order she caught me starting at it to see how deep the butterfly was wedged in; the top of her apron covered the bottom of the butterfly, too, so it was all very coy.

Anyhow, I bought a medium cafe con leche, served in a styrofoam cup with a plastic lid on it, and a very tasty roast pork sandwich. When I left, I caught Elvira's eye and waved goodbye to her - she was in the kitchen in back - and she lit up and waved goodbye.

Saddly, some friends of my one Dutch friend are in from out of town unexpectedly, so I will not be able to decamp to his house and live in the Puerto Rican part of town while he's away, since they are staying there for like the next 4 or 5 days.

I am kind of depressed, because I had already been very pleased with myself the past few days, thinking of myself living an idyllic pork-eating life in solidarity with all the other boricuas of the metropolis.