Picture yourself this, You are surrounded by 2 types of people in general, most of which are "Rain Man" caliber males of the hispanic or native american variety. And chances are they really do get their underwear at the (K- or Wal-) Mart of Espanola!*
The other type of person surrounding you is an Anne Ramsey/ Momma (as in "Throw Momma from the Train") caliber female of the hispanic or native american variety. Smelling of cat liter and cigarette smoke, she scorns you for speaking to her.
And neither of them make me feel very welcome in the foreground of my place of employment. And the rest of the surrounding people you can look at as a younger cross section of both of the above... and see them grown old in your mind's eye as some sick hateful old bastards or witches.
Yet they still ask you how the kiosk works so they can enter the drawing for the free 42" flatscreen TV, and they probably don't even have basic cable, because as I see it the peublo is more of a trailor-park than anything I have ever seen in the midwest.
*I withdraw my battle for the ñ, an N with a ~ over it, I dont frippin care any longer, go ahead and say it in english! or better yet say it in some mixed up dislexic perspective like someone i know who thought it was Esmerelda ...
I need to get the F out of here, I wonder if this was wrote to me...
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1 comment:
I think you had better focus in your review mirror and imagine seeing New Mexico there as you head back to Vegas where women don't use eau d' cat-litter and your skills are appreciated.
Good Luck.
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