On Not Being Bilingual

I miss my Spanish skills most when I am walking down the street, some man eagerly throws open his truck door, starts in with, “¡Hola! ¡Hola, guapa! Sexy! ‘Ey!” along with some highly enticing smooching noises, and I can’t quite come up with the right combination of searing words that make tears swell in his eyes while he inwardly admits that, yes, I’m right, his mamá would be ashamed.

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