Drunkards and Locos
It’s fun to talk with drunk men if you are a safe distance away. The other night I had a conversation with a local drunk. (I was sewing and had the screens to the street open and he saw me as he was stumbling home). It went something like this:
Drunk Man (DM): good evening miss
me: good evening
DM: you sure can sew, eh?
me: I enjoy it anyway
DM: um, I have a shirt (pause) it needs to be fixed… (pause) you’ll do that for me, right?
me: sry, I don’t sew for other ppl
DM: ok, I’ll bring it over
me: sry sir, I don’t have time to fix your shirt, I have some dresses that need to be made.
DM: oh. *stares at me* ok. no problem miss. thanx
me: —-
DM: you’re pretty
me: thanx
DM: God made you that way right?
me: right
DM: God bless you! *stumbles away muttering pretty pretty*
This afternoon, Juancito, a local loco, came very distressed to me while I was over at Nina Elsie’s store. I had just run over to bring Juan Carlos over to entertain Patrick and i while we stamped Antorchas. He said, "Miss, come," and lifted up his shirt and told me to put my hand "right here."
"Feel my heart, it’s jumping."
I told him to put his shirt down; it’s not good manners.
"No" he said, "feel it here."
I told him that I can feel his heartbeat by putting my hand over his shirt, and told him all of hearts jump.
He repeated, "IT’S JUMPING!!"
I told him that perhaps he’s been walking too much, he should lie down and give his heart a rest.
"No"
"Well, what do you think might help it?" I asked.
"Give me a pill, it’s jumping." And he put his head down on his arms and groaned.
"I don’t have any, Juan. Look, go lie over there in the shade, ok?"
And I was getting kinda annoyed so I left with the baby in my arms.
