It's Winter Music Conference this weekend: 200,000 partying douchebags are wandering the streets of South Beach, their pupils dilated so wide from the drugs that their eyeballs are about to pop. A few years ago, it was a fun event but now it's lame, a big date-rape waiting to happen. I've mostly lived inside since Thursday: movies, shopping, staying home. But tonight the cool breezes beckoned me out, for some fresh air and a stroll to the corner market where they sell those cookies I like, called something in Spanish which I cannot (nor does it matter if I do) remember. The foster dogs just ate, they were in a food coma, they wouldn't notice if I left.
I took a different route than normal, walking straight instead of turning right, and I passed a street I never knew existed. Four years of living here, and I never saw the street, two blocks from my apartment. Huh. I walked down and looked at the surprisingly large houses, windows open and voices rolling out with the goings-on of middle-class family life. And on the sidewalk, with a collection of trash cans, was a nice office chair that was apparently no longer wanted. I sat down on it, and listened as the family next door discussed a matter of some sort while watching "Hoarders" on TV. I love that show. And it was a good chair. These rich people throw away good stuff, I swipe furniture all the time.
I made my way to the store, and wandered four aisles back to the sugary junk; on the shelves were packages of muffins, labeled "panqué." When T.L. wanted a muffin, he would call them "pancakes," and ask "Bebecito I wanna sweet, let's get the pancakes!" and we'd go to Starbucks. I accepted it as one of those cute phrases he translated for himself but didn't quite get right. I loved his wacky language, it was a secret I kept just for myself and I hated correcting him. But little did I know, he wasn't saying "pancake," he was saying "panqué." For two years, he was saying it right and I had no idea. Well. You learn something new every day. A walk to the market, and my list of newly-learned things was already at 2. What an adventure!
I bought my stuff, no panqués as they looked dry, and walked home. On the way I swiped the chair on the curb. I'm sitting on it right now, as I type. I have some cookies left, if you want them.