dispatch from gringolandia
today Irina, Lev and I were eating Mexican food at la Lupe on 8th street. the waitress didn't understand my Spanish, which happens fairly often. I'm convinced this isn't cause my accent sucks real bad (o god listen to my EGO grow), but more because it's a weird situation for the person to be conversing with a NNS. which is okay w me.
anyway some drunk pirate-on-land comes up to the window and makes faces at Lev, who innocently responds with a poker face, because babies don't know about being politely appreciative. then he comes inside with a loud HHHOOOla! que pasa! or somesuch and speaks some English peppered with Spanish and with shouting with Lupe. he insists on showing his solidarity to the couple in the back of the restaurant (who were adorably sitting next to each other) by using all the Spanish he knew -- hasta luego (several times), champinones, queso, cebollas. pointing to his sweatshirt, he invited them to Pat's "we serve everyone" to have a cheesesteak.
he also professed that while he speaks English "unfortunately", he was not American but came here from Irlandia. "viva san patricio". i don't want to assume but I do really really want to believe that he didn't. This guy definitely did not have an Irish accent, instead a Philly one.
that's an interesting attitude though. he could join the Working Class Nationality Guilt club I'm starting at A Space. oh that wasn't funny at all.
the first Irish impersonator i met was in Peru, a shaman from Gales who had lived in New Zealand, Israel, and India (good choices). also drunk.
has anyone staged some action at Genos ever? I was thinking if we gave us shit everyone we knew who speaks a non English tongue could clog the line ordering all the non English cheesesteaks they could, for a whole day. also flyering to tourists some Vento quotes.
anyway some drunk pirate-on-land comes up to the window and makes faces at Lev, who innocently responds with a poker face, because babies don't know about being politely appreciative. then he comes inside with a loud HHHOOOla! que pasa! or somesuch and speaks some English peppered with Spanish and with shouting with Lupe. he insists on showing his solidarity to the couple in the back of the restaurant (who were adorably sitting next to each other) by using all the Spanish he knew -- hasta luego (several times), champinones, queso, cebollas. pointing to his sweatshirt, he invited them to Pat's "we serve everyone" to have a cheesesteak.
he also professed that while he speaks English "unfortunately", he was not American but came here from Irlandia. "viva san patricio". i don't want to assume but I do really really want to believe that he didn't. This guy definitely did not have an Irish accent, instead a Philly one.
that's an interesting attitude though. he could join the Working Class Nationality Guilt club I'm starting at A Space. oh that wasn't funny at all.
the first Irish impersonator i met was in Peru, a shaman from Gales who had lived in New Zealand, Israel, and India (good choices). also drunk.
has anyone staged some action at Genos ever? I was thinking if we gave us shit everyone we knew who speaks a non English tongue could clog the line ordering all the non English cheesesteaks they could, for a whole day. also flyering to tourists some Vento quotes.