Pull up a chair and smell the coffee brewing. Sit down and cross your legs, touch your hair and wonder. What time will it be? Can you afford to do this?
I bring out the empanadas, and one of you breaks the silence with your noisemaking party favor. I stare at you, the offender, to let you know how I feel about this sort of thing, then I get back to the distribution of snacks. Every platter has to be just so, even if they are not the fanciest dishes you have ever seen in your life. You think to yourself you saw this very same set at one of those stores in a strip mall last year on the clearance rack. You may be wrong, but this thought brings you a little smug satisfaction nonetheless.
I serve the coffee and tea, all the little china cups tinkling and clattering pleasantly on their plates. I reach across the table to hand you yours, and my sleeve slides up my arm. I Catch you staring at the bruises, and you look away as quickly as I tug my sleeve back down.
Once everything is passed around and everyone has settled down, I am overcome with an urge to make an announcement. What a nice little Tuesday it has turned out to be after all! I begin to clear my throat and wonder to myself if I should tap my spoon on the cup to get everyone's attention before I stand up or after, and right then someone turns on the TV and it is turned up LOUD.
'How rude!' I think, and spin around in my chair to see who
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