Episode 1: The One About the Beggar

So, you ever get the impression that things out in the world just aren’t what they seem to be?

And no, I don’t mean in any sort of Illuminati/Reptillian/General Mason Agenda sort of way. I mean in the general “huh” sort of way. Events in the world that don’t leave any impression other than the general pause of reflection. Something that makes you re-evaluate life.

Again, no, not in any sort of Bucket List/Forrest Gump/General Feel Good 90’s Movie sort of way. Just, makes reality feel so damn unreal. As time goes by these sort of occurrences just pile up. So why the hell shouldn’t I just have some fun with it? As for the name “Spanish Seinfeld”? Well, every single show about hispanics/latinos on television PREACHES “honor/family/tradition”! As if we were parrots or something. Folksy idiots. When, really, it’s more like Seinfeld.

This is, well, read the goddamn title.

Now, my brother (let’s call him Spanish George) and I had been walking around Manhattan waiting for a movie showtime to come around. It was going to take a while so we decided to see what was what over at the Boston Market across the street. For those who are Boston Market fanatics, yes, there IS a Boston Market in NYC.

When we had finished eating, in walked this (naturally) homeless woman. Now I SAY homeless because I hope she was. I have no real way of knowing one way or another. But I hope she was. Otherwise, her actions become way more incredible.

So, as I was saying, she walks in. Now there are, say, 6 or so other people in this Boston Market. Yet, of all the people there, she bypasses all of them and walks over straight to me. (My brother was otherwise indisposed). So, of all the things that should come of her mouth, in any language, out comes a really bad “Yo neccesito ayuda“. Which in spanish means “I need help”.

As any reasonable person would I respond, “What kind of help?“, also helping to demonstrate that I speak ENGLISH. And what does one get in return? ANOTHERYo neccesito ayuda“, again in the same “I can’t speak spanish but I think you do”. This time with some annoyance in its tone, like she was mad about me not responding to her immediately with some help.

So I ask again. In English. Again. She goes on to talk about trying to get to St. Patrick’s Church or whatever. ALL IN THIS BROKEN SPANISH. All the while I just sit in my seat responding when I can in English. After a while I just plain out ask what the hell she expects me to do. She FINALLY gives up the whole Spanish game and speaks back in perfect English: “Food“.

Now I get what she wanted all along.

So, do you want money or not? Because I don’t have any food, or know how to cook anything at this table here.

She nods. And, relieved as fuck to have gotten this over with I hand her the only bill I got – a 10. She walks away and as she does she says ONE MORE THING:

I was hoping you could also order for me“.

FADE TO BLACK