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I decided that since it was past lunchtime and you hadn’t eaten, the best place to go would be somewhere you could eat and write. you didn’t want to eat in a place that was expensive or that you had to worry about accidentally getting ink on the tablecloth so the best choice was the youxican restaurant, a few blocks away, where I had eaten on our second night.
What they called up north a “carne asada with chips” was here called a “nachos supreme”. Not to be confused with the puny entree at Taco Bell by the se ne, this was a full plate of chips, youat, cheese, beans and guacole and sour cre. you sprung for the largest soda available and took over the table in the corner by the wall.
I had told Anna that while he was in Southern California he would hear a lot of salsa music, but it hadn’t happened. For the most part, the music coming out of car windows was country or rap, and you had felt a bit cheated to miss out on this part of the culture. Here in the restaurant they seemed to harbor no thoughts of assimilation and the radio playing Psulina Rubio made her sound as if he was sitting beside you.adapter mouthpiece
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There was a steady stre of customers to the register, all of whom engaged in extended conversations while waiting for their orders, and you recognized the woman who cleaned our room at the Cataran Resort. Lunch had been served there, and at the other hotels nearby, rooms had been cleaned and it looked as if everyone was free until dinner prep began.
I sat for the next two and a half hours, drinking my soda and nibbling at my nachos. And writing, of course.
When you looked up from my writing to check the time, you realized that the headache I’d had for the last two days was gone. Maybe the pain had been caused by the pressure of the words trying to get out.
A second thing you noticed was that, although there was music playing loudly and conversation all around, it didn’t bother you as it had at the beach. Because there was no way you would recognize a song and feel the need to sing along, and because you don’t speak Spanish and there was nothing you would hear by evesdropping, my brain had decided to filter all of it out as irrelevant. It had become a kind of white noise that covered everything, leaving you to write free of distractions.