Tonight, as I drove home from Bellevue, across an abysmal Lake Washington, cold rain dripped from new spring leaves and collected in muddy puddles. A far cry from the sandy, warm beaches of Mexico. And yet all I could think about were tacos. No time or interest in a big, sit-down restaurant ordeal. I just needed tacos and I needed them now.
I drove to the less than credible intersection of Graham and Rainier, thankful they were still open this late. Ordered the carne asada plate with flour tortillas. An aquamarine blue Taurus rolls up, tinted windows down, P. Diddy's "Best Friend" blarring while I stumbled my way through a simple Spanish flyer advertising the benefits of pre-school for non-English speaking children. It's difficult to get through. Mostly because as the linguistic side of my brain translates one line of Spanish, the hip hop side of my brain (we all got it, just admit it) is singing it out with Puff. It goes something like:
"Half day or complete day school"
[Puffy] "You mean everything to me"
"Door to door transportation"
[Puffy] "You've been with me from day one"
"Good for children who speak little or no English"
[Puffy] "Even when I thought nobody was there, you were there"
"Must be 4 years of age by August 31st"
[Puffy] "You're my best friend"
"Smooth transition into Seattle public kindergarten"
[Puffy] "I love you like no other"
"Call to enroll your child now!"
[Puffy grabs the mic and takes over]
"There is no feeling like this in the world"
"If you can relate to what I'm feeling"
"Put your hands in the air for me"
"You're the love of my life"
Fortunately, before I can raise my hands in the air, my carne asada is ready. I brave the drippy night and head home to enjoy....
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