Encuentros con hispánicos

[muckefuck]

[My intention was to write these up in Catalan bzw. Spanish, but at this point it's a choice between posting in English and not posting at all.]

• El Gironí: Riding the 36 Broadway back from Little Saigon on Sunday, I noticed a small man with salt-and-pepper hair hanging around near the entryway as we changed drivers at Foster. Once we were moving again, I heard a woman seated near him say, "There's a neighbourhood Edgewater but I don't know a street called that." Know-it-all that I am, I had to put in my two cents. I know that street--it's right at the southern edge of Gethsemane. The man held a printout of a Google Map giving directions from a downtown hotel, but the detail was laughably unhelpful. I recommended he get out at Bryn Mawr and walk, then I asked him where he was from. "Spain." "¿De donde en Espana?" "Barcelona." Well, no; after a little back-and-forth in a mixture of Catalan (nope, he didn't see that coming), Spanish, and English, it turned out that he really mean Girona. "It's not a city," he told me, "it's a big village." Afterwards, I asked myself if I should've gotten out with him and walked him to the address so we could keep talking. But I just looked it up and it's a Pentecostal church, so it's probably just as well I didn't.
• El Tapatío I briefly considered walking to Ruby of Siam to slake my craving for noodles today now that I've pretty much given up on Sabai but I couldn't really spare the time. So it was the local cafeteria and Mr Brick Shithouse was manning the stir-fry station. He said something I didn't quite catch about watching the World Cup this weekend and then clarified that he had two "chiquitas" coming--making clear from his facial expressions that these were a couple of pretty hot numbers. "¿Tienes novia?" he asked me and I truthfully answered "No". He shook his head at this and told me I could have one. "¡Muy generoso!" I replied.
• El Tamaulipeco: When I thought I'd been stood up yesterday, I called a couple of other acquaintances in the vicinity to see if they were free. One was an old buddy I haven't gotten together with in years. We ran into each other at the Loyola Station about a year ago, so I knew he was still in the neighbourhood, and again at Massouleh, but I never heard from him. He was at work, but had time free tonight so we met on Argyle and ended up at Tank Noodle where he had a "meatless" bánh xèo. (It came out later in conversation that "meat" to him basically means "red meat".) As it happens, he basically lives around the corner from us, so I invited him back to see the place. We found monshu in surprisingly good spirits despite having had to deal with condo business and the two of them chatted for a time about Buddhism. At some point, he declared "My life is a melodrama!" But as I told the GWO later, the nice thing about him is that he doesn't make you a participant. He's had a tough time of it--health problems, underemployment, bankruptcy, etc.--but he stays chipper and easy-going through it all. Here's hoping he comes by more often.