A:
So you're liking the new place? It seems really nice.
B:
Yeah, yeah, for sure. We got really lucky on it.
A:
That's great. Seems like it's a nice neighborhood, too, I saw that little grocery store across the street.
B:
The Hispanic place?
A:
Yeah.
B:
Yeah, I was actually sort of disappointed with that. I went in last week hoping for some good fresh, cheap, salsa or something. And they had some salsa, but it was all brands I recognized and everything, just that stuff in jars. They had a butchery in there too, beef tongue and all that shit.
A:
What did you expect, a bunch of smiling Hispanic folks making fresh guacamole or something?
B:
No, I don't know, I
A:
"Sho' is a hot day out, eh massa Mark? You white folk be wantin' any fresh salsa? We poor Mexican jus' looove smiling and making salsa for white folks like yourself, nice and fresh like!"
B:
That's not what Hispanic racist caricatures sound like.
A:
No, but seriously. They're poor
B:
Low income
A:
They're low income people like anybody else. It's not like you walk into a little grocery store in a poor white area and a bunch of people are sitting around making great fresh potato salad or veggie trays or whatever.
B:
But it's different in Mexico right?
A:
I don't know, it could be. I can imagine in some genuine Mexican village, a bunch of women get together and crank out the salsa and tortillas for the week or whatever. I really have no idea.
B:
But yeah. You're right, those guys are way different culturally than the people in my neighborhood, who default to speaking Spanish, but otherwise work all day and come home tired and not wanting to cook like everybody else.
A:
Yeah, exactly.
B:
Yeah, good call.
A:
So, just to confirm. They don't have any like, fresh hot tamales ready to go at all times there right? Cause I am starving, and some green chili tamales sound fricking great.
B:
I know, right?!