Ilan and I took lunch to Jorge at his office today. We decided to go to this little Mexican food drive thru not far from my house. They have great chalupas there and that’s what we knew would make “Dada” happy. Anyway, this little drive thru has true authentic Mexican food. And when I say true authentic, I really mean true authentic…they don’t speak English there. And although I understand all Spanish and can speak “asi, asi”, when I get flustered or nervous I lose all abilities to think and understand it. I guess when I ordered I got flustered and nervous. This is how it transcribed (the way I heard it):

Drive-thru Man: “Bienvenidos a La Siberia. Su orden porfavor”

Me: “Hola. Quiero un orden de chalupas, sin crema”

Drive-thru Man: “Deseas algo mas?”

Me: “Si. Tambien quiero un torta de bistec sin crema.”

Drive-thru Man: “Algo. Trabajadora. Bano. Iglesia. Camiseta. Basura. Policia. Embarazada.”

Me: “Huh? Ugh….No entiendo.” (At this point I decided to just drive to the window and talk to him face to face).

When I got to the window he was smiling, asked me for money, took my money, and closed the window. “Ok.” I thought. “He understood my order. Whew!”. Well, apparently he didn’t understand my order. Or maybe I didn’t say what I thought I was saying. I ended up with cheese enchiladas (sin crema, thank you very much) and an order of Milanesa. ¡Ah Caramba!

Oh well. In my head it sounded like perfect Spanish. And what I ordered sure tasted good!