PASTICHE

TIMO
My roommate Timothy, being a photographer, is too cool for the name Tim, so he goes by Timo (Tee-moh). Unfortunately, “timo” means “rip-off” in Spanish. When Timo placed an ad for English lessons on-line, he told people to call “Tim” if interested. Then each time a potential student called and asked for “Tim,” Timo responded, “Sí, soy Timo” (“Yeah, I’m a rip-off”). Needless to say, with honesty like that, the kid didn’t get many private students….but he did get laughed at a lot.

STUDENT-TEACHER CONFERENCE
One of my 6-year-olds used to cry before he’d have to come to my class (probably because I beat him). Since Alvaro always seemed to be having a good time during class, this was confusing, and the school director asked me if I could just ask him what was wrong. So there I was, having a student-teacher conference in Spanish with a 6-year-old; ridiculous. “Alvaro, why do you cry before coming to the class? Do you not want to learn English?” The problem was that while Alvaro liked playing with a crazy-talking white girl after school, like any normal 6-year-old, he would have preferred just going home and playing with his own toys. What a crazy kid.

FOUL-MOUTHED GRANNIES
I saw the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life this morning. I was taking the bus back home after my crack-of-dawn morning class. It was about 9:10 a.m., traffic was pretty tight still and all the passengers were still victims of morning stupor….and suddenly our bus screeched to a halt behind a cab that had cut us off. We all went flying and the driver went ballistic, as was expected. But then the cab moved to the next lane and we pulled up along side it….and the three grandmas in front of me started repeatedly and vociferously yelling “son of a b---ch” in Spanish and flipping off the driver. For the rest of the ride, they glared with grandma rage at each passing taxi. I almost DIED trying to keep my laughter in. I was so afraid that if I laughed they’d beat me with their giant granny-handbags.

REMINDER ROOSTER
As mentioned previously, I teach at the crack of dawn. I have an 8a.m. class M-Th, meaning I have to get up at 6, catch the bus at 7:25 and arrive at 7:50. As if this weren’t bad enough, every freaking morning as I approach the building where I teach, a damn rooster crows. It lives in a walled-in yard behind this restaurant next to my building….and it feels the need to give me a daily, vibrant reminder of how early it is and how much I want to be in bed. I swear, one day, I will toss off my heels, catapult over that wall, and then kiddies, we’ll be havin’ rooster for breakfast.