Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Monday, April 05, 2004 ¿Que the Hell Pasa? (Part Tres)
Trash and I were having lunch at Chipotle the other day, and a few of the employees were carrying on a conversation in Spanish. After we got to our table, Trash asked me, “What were they saying?”
“They were saying you’re pretty,” I told her.
“No they weren’t,” she said.
“They might have been. 'Cause, you know, you are.”
If there’s anything sadder than the worst Spanish speaker in the world, it’s the worst Spanish speaker in the world getting rusty. I sort of abandoned my studies when I started working on my Project Greenlight screenplay (which didn’t make the first cut, thanks for asking), and never went back. But that’s no reason why you should suffer.
By the way, parts uno and dos of this series are here and here, respectively.
Scene 7. We open in a classroom that, oddly enough, appears to contain something resembling a class. Several teenage students greet each other, until Pedro warns them the Mr. Garcia approaches. He doesn’t say whether Mr. Garcia is armed.
By the way, what’s Pedro doing in a class with a bunch of teenagers? Is he in some sort of accelerated genius program? If so, that’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard.
Mr. Garcia enters, sounding like he’s nursing one mother hangover (which would explain the dark glasses he’s wearing in the book’s illustrations), and orders everyone to sit. He asks Pedro to count the students, presumably because he’s seeing twice as many as there actually are. Pedro completes this task successfully, but Mr. Garcia asks Carlos to give it a whirl as well. Sure, the teenager’s going to be able to pull it off. He listened to the six-year-old do it.
But before the proceedings can continue, they are interrupted by a much more interesting conversation from out in the hallway. Two young women are holding a spirited debate:
“Don Miguel is Spanish.”
“No, Don Miguel is not Spanish, Don Miguel is Italian.”
“But Don Miguel is Spanish.”
“Not at all! Don Miguel is Italian.”
On and on ad nauseam. Realizing that this is vastly more fascinating than whatever is going on in his classroom, Mr. Garcia asks Pedro to close the door. After a slow, steady walk that would allow Pedro to cover the entire distance between Spain and Italy, Pedro reluctantly closes the door. The scene ends before we find out whether Mr. Garcia then asks Carlos to close the door as well, or simply passes out.
Scene 8. Maria, the tardy secretary from earlier scenes, takes a taxi to work. “Is this Central Avenue?” she asks her driver. The driver, speaking in the voice of the Big Bad Wolf for reasons that are not made clear, affirms that it is. She’s been coming to work on this street for how long and still doesn’t know where it is? No wonder she was late before. She was lost. While commuting.
Now we meet Maria’s other boss, Mr. Lopez the office manager. He’ll have more to do in future scenes. Right now all we need to know is that he works in the office with Maria, which is a little confusing because before, the office was also the classroom. Which may still be the case, I suppose. I don’t know. I still think this school is a little top-heavy, what with having five students and three faculty members. But maybe I’m just falling behind on the “cultural understanding” aspects of the course. Even so, I think I’m still ahead of Maria and Mr. Garcia. The jury’s still out on Pedro and Mr. Lopez, but I can tell you that I’ve peeked ahead and it doesn’t look good for them either.
Today’s best search phrase: “Letter about a funny incident on a boat trip.” Do I have to do everything? Look, if people are expecting a letter about a funny incident, just go on the damn boat trip. Jeez.
posted by M. Giant 6:41 PM 0 comments