The one night I hit all those Polish bars, I popped into this bowling alley to see if it had a bar, and since it did, I had a drink there.
The bartender was this (older) (white) woman, but much of the clientele was hispanic, with even a few African-Americans here and there, and when I got there, she and these two (Latina) women were discussing the merits of Cedric the Entertainer.
Both had seen him twice, and agreed that he recycled too much material.
Later, this one kind of lanky baby-faced Latino kid with a bright red baseball cap and a hoodie left everyone, since he had to get to school, and as he was leaving she called him over and gave him a hug across the counter.
"Now you get home, you have school tomorrow!", she was like, and he mumbled something about how it was only 9pm.
"But by the time you get home and get ready for bed, it'll be ten, and you have to be up at six for school, so git!", she was like.
Later, I talked with her, and she told me not only about what an asshole the previous mayor was and how unions in this state have it too good, but also about growing up on this farm in north-central Wisconsin, and how because of that she was more like her parents' generation than her own, and she grew up in a farmhouse with a pump and an outhouse, and went to a one-room schoolhouse that only got merged into a county school for the 1st time when she was in high school.
"Me and Johnny Patoshek [sp.?]," she was like, laughing, talking about the other kid in her grade.
She also said that one time her and her dad were in a truck going down a county road around November right before hibernation time, and there was this old fat bear in the middle of the road, and her dad honked the horn at it, but it started sleepily running "boozha boozha boozha" down the road, its fat shaking everywhere, and since her dad was a smart ass, he followed it, even nudging its butt with the front of his truck now and then.
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