One time out clubbing Jeraldo turned directly to me and said privately in open crowded public as if we were in a corridor,
"Give me $20.00. I'm broke."
Broke is a karate chop at the neck. He continued,
"Monday I will be...",
he said the word "be" and finger spelled,
"r-e-r-i-c-h," two Englifications and a neologism in English for my benefit, as if he is talking down to a child, taking it slowly, and a child that is a bit thick with every chance of getting it wrong, but one with the cash so it is funny and he cannot resist cracking himself up, he turns away and giggles because that is a ridiculous thing to say, then turns back to the serious business of pumping me for cash, and taking care to be successful. He says he will be paid on Monday. Fact is on Monday he will be poor as always and the request forgotten. And there is not a chance of being repaid.
Jeraldo is Puerto Rican and when you flip through is portfolio, page by page he looks like an entirely different person on each page. He can appear to be any race. Handsome or ugly, tender or rough, honest or evil, fashion-aware, utterly unselfconscious. His hair does anything he wants, grease it up and comb it straight back, or have it fall to gentle curls, or puff it up to a near afro. A natural actor.
And now he's become fat.
One night we all ended up at his house. About eight of us. His parents house. That was something of a cultural shock eye-opener thing for me. I mentioned it to the others but they shrugged. It was simply the most feminine house I have ever walked into as if no detectable male presence for miles. Pink, frilly, fancy, doo-dads, girlish ceramic statuettes, pink, folderol, gimcracks, pink, feminine, girlish, lady-like and pink, delicate touches, lace, pink, Spanish things all around, ceramic dancers and such, fancy lamps with roses painted all over, and guess what color -- red! Silly. Of course the roses are red, I said it is feminine I didn't say it is insane. Nothing, nothing, nothing even remotely masculine.Not a tool in sight. I wondered about Jeraldo's dad. What up with that whole thing? Do they just let their women decorate 100% or what? That left a lasting impression.
2 comments:
Thank you, Lem, for making me rich again.
One time out clubbing Jeraldo turned directly to me and said privately in open crowded public as if we were in a corridor,
"Give me $20.00. I'm broke."
Broke is a karate chop at the neck. He continued,
"Monday I will be...",
he said the word "be" and finger spelled,
"r-e-r-i-c-h," two Englifications and a neologism in English for my benefit, as if he is talking down to a child, taking it slowly, and a child that is a bit thick with every chance of getting it wrong, but one with the cash so it is funny and he cannot resist cracking himself up, he turns away and giggles because that is a ridiculous thing to say, then turns back to the serious business of pumping me for cash, and taking care to be successful. He says he will be paid on Monday. Fact is on Monday he will be poor as always and the request forgotten. And there is not a chance of being repaid.
Jeraldo is Puerto Rican and when you flip through is portfolio, page by page he looks like an entirely different person on each page. He can appear to be any race. Handsome or ugly, tender or rough, honest or evil, fashion-aware, utterly unselfconscious. His hair does anything he wants, grease it up and comb it straight back, or have it fall to gentle curls, or puff it up to a near afro. A natural actor.
And now he's become fat.
One night we all ended up at his house. About eight of us. His parents house. That was something of a cultural shock eye-opener thing for me. I mentioned it to the others but they shrugged. It was simply the most feminine house I have ever walked into as if no detectable male presence for miles. Pink, frilly, fancy, doo-dads, girlish ceramic statuettes, pink, folderol, gimcracks, pink, feminine, girlish, lady-like and pink, delicate touches, lace, pink, Spanish things all around, ceramic dancers and such, fancy lamps with roses painted all over, and guess what color -- red! Silly. Of course the roses are red, I said it is feminine I didn't say it is insane. Nothing, nothing, nothing even remotely masculine.Not a tool in sight. I wondered about Jeraldo's dad. What up with that whole thing? Do they just let their women decorate 100% or what? That left a lasting impression.
Thanks for making me re-rich.
Well finally an explanation of why dinosaurs went extinct.
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