Saturday wasn't as relaxing as it was supposed to be thanks to a distracted driver that thinks is OK to ask for directions in the middle of a highway. It doesn't matter if it's raining or you're changing lane. For my sister every spot is the same as any touristic city corner.We went to Valle de Bravo and Avandaro, which I imagined as a hippie sanctuary in the middle of a valley but it turned out to be quite the opposite: a beautiful place for bourgeois Mexicans and foreigners that used to make fun of the hippie thing right before it actually became a joke itself.
On Sunday I woke up late, just on time to laugh with Old Christine (one of my TV darlings) and had two greasy quesadillas for breakfast. There's nothing better to cheer you up than calories. I tried to make plans for the day, but it started raining before I got to any schedule so I decided to stay in pajamas and watch television all day.
By the time "Friends" ended I got hungry again. The rain stopped on time to go get a burger at the mall and maybe catch a movie. Not only the movie programming was poor but the mall was a nightmare of zombies with shopping bags and ice cream cones in their hands instead of bloody meat and brains.
At those moments you kind of understand those people that get into public places and shoots arbitrarily for no apparent reason. More than one time I wish I had a gun and enough rage to do the same to the lady with ugly hair style and expensive purse or the family guy with the T-shirt tucked under the sweatpants or the metro sexual guy wearing white shoes and a matching belt or the girl with ugly eyebrows and decorated nails matching her cell phone. Mine would be the opposite of mass murder. I'm unfamiliar to arbitrariness.
I get my burger to go. Buy the newspaper and walk to the park next home. Eating while reading about Honduras aborted coup d'état, economical recession, Iran, Israel and some other international crap. A bald guy approaches asking something regarding today's soccer game. I reply that I'm not interested in sports and the guy smiles and says good bye without acknowledging my rudeness. His beautiful little boy walks after him turning his head towards me, staring. I smile at him and he smiles back.
In my way home I stop at the coffee place and order mocha. The clerk asks me about the soccer game and I wonder what happened to the weather talk or the no talk at all…
Rainy days were made for silence.
2 comentarios:
have i told you that my turkish sister says that she watches old christine because she reminds her of old sylvia and new youknow?
I wonder who is Barb in my life.
I'm in shock women are allowed to watch "Old Christine" in Turkey, but not by the fact that she resembles to your mother.
I guess Nata is you're Barb. She's "butchy" enough...
Publicar un comentario