(no subject)
at my work, when you are prepping the fruit. you get your own little room to work in with a cd/radio and it's nice and private. so anyway.. I work with this guy named hector. and he is back there most of the time, doing all the prep work for 5 days a week. hector doesn't like to speak english. he only likes to say fuck in English, in fact. and hector keep the radio tuned to a mexican station all the time. which I don't mind, because I bring cd's but after a cd is over the radio comes on.
so today, my cd ended and I sat there listening to static, nothing but static for 30 or so minutes because I was so wrapped up. in walks hector, and all the sudden. mexican music starts blasting on the radio. why did I type this story in there? I don't know. but the moral of it is: hector has mexician music in his blood... literally
so today, my cd ended and I sat there listening to static, nothing but static for 30 or so minutes because I was so wrapped up. in walks hector, and all the sudden. mexican music starts blasting on the radio. why did I type this story in there? I don't know. but the moral of it is: hector has mexician music in his blood... literally