The other week I was in a gentrifying (Mexican) neighborhood in the city, and I popped into this hole-in-the-wall bar that I'd been to before and really liked a lot.
The news was on in the corner, and the handful of people in the bar - the (middle-aged) (female) bartender, the (older) (male) proprietor, and 1 (younger) and 1 (middle-aged) (male) patron - watched the news desultorily, until this segment came on with a(n apparently) (white) girl pulled over in the car and a cop shining a flashlight in her face, and she talks very calmly and at length in response to the cop's questions, and everyone in the bar was just watching the footage intensely.
When the segment changed, I asked them what that was about, since I couldn't understand the Spanish that well but something had happened in Tijuana.
The (middle-aged) patron then said that she had killed her mother and sister, and spoke about it like it was normal.
The (female) bartender seemed disturbed, and the guy was like, "She's crazy."
"Well," I was like, "Maybe she's only half crazy. She didn't eat them, did she?".
At that, the (younger) guy patron just burst out laughing, and I could that suddenly everyone there liked me.
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