(May 15, 2006)
(I never studied Spanish in school so please forgive my spelling and grammar)
I was parked in my car yesterday afternoon reading. I’d finished a nice lunch at a Mexican Restaurant in my neighborhood and was enjoying the sunshine and the breeze. Parked next to me was a work van and I watched (nosy as hell) two guys in their 40’s get into the van. They were speaking in Spanish and although I could hear every word clearly, I couldn’t understand a thing. (Yes, I’m the one who thinks I’m learning the language by watching the HBO in Spanish)
I decided to interrupt these two innocent men; “Por favore Senors, en Anglais – me no comprende Espanol.”
They were friendly guys and laughed. “No Anglais senorita.” (they even gave me a ‘senorita’ instead of the ‘senora’ my age obviously calls for – cool dudes!)
Other guys piled into the van and one of the gentlemen smiled at me, stepped back out and introduced himself. He shook my hand and said, “Me nombre es Luis.” He seemed to be the eldest of the group and I was charmed by his courtly manner. He may have been in his 60’s or so and his smiling face was beautiful.
I didn’t understand much of what he said to me – I’m pretty sure he didn’t understand much of what I said to him, but I’ll never forget my new friend Luis.
Moments like those few with a van load of strangers are what keep me going on the bad days.