For this Cinco de Mayo

What a perfect day to tell you a short story of what happened to me the other day.

A Mexican family came into the shop. From what I could observe, it appeared to be a grandfather along with his son and grandson. While the younger two went off towards the back to look at some candy, the grandfather stayed up at the front.

Wah* wah wah wah "tambien" wah wah

“Uh, No hablo espanol. Lo siento.” I replied.

Wah wah wah. Apparently something was lost in translation because this guy kept going. But you would have died laughing if you could see my panicked face as he continued in Spanish!

“No entiendo.” I continued, hoping it would get the message. Please speak in English!

Wah wah wah. Oh my God. I needed someone to start speaking English!

I think this guy got a kick that I was talking to him in Spanish telling him that I didn’t speak it. Like some Spanish teachers I’ve had, I think he felt that emersion into the language would coax a few more responses from me. Nope. Sorry. Those three phrases are about all I remember from high school. I learned just enough to let people know that I would need a translator.

Eventually they checked out but then when it came time to pay, the guy pulls out a Mexican cincuenta bill. Why is he doing this to me?

“Sorry sir. My manager only accepts American or Canadian.” Well, it’s true.



*Like the an adult on the animated Charlie Brown shows, this is all I heard.