High School Classmate

“Nothing?”

Nothing.

“Because you don’t like them?”

Si. That’s about right.

“They have good wine.”

I wouldn’t know.

“Good steak too.”

I doubt it’s any better than what they make here.

“Hmmm. Leather goods. They have really good leather goods.”

I’m not in the market for a whip right now. I’m ok.

“Do you think you’re better than them?”

Them? Yes, I am. Only because they think they’re better than me which automatically makes me better than them.

“Why again?”

Because anyone that thinks they are better than another person is automatically placed beneath that person.

“Because of what?”

Rules. Rules set forth for being a decent human being.

“How about people who go around talking about how good looking they are and how great of a mustache they have? What about them?”

Guatemalans are in a category of their own. God himself decided to make all Guatemalans amazing looking. This cannot be helped. Do not hate the Guatemalan people because God prefers them. It is not our fault.

“What do you think God thinks about Argentines?”

I think he places them in the same category as Albania.

“Was that the first country you could think of that started with an “a”?”

No. I thought of Afghanistan, but I think God likes the Afghanis more than the Argentines.

“But Argentina is better than Afghanistan in soccer.”

Oh yeah, I guess they were too busy kicking the Russians out of their country and being oppressed by the Taliban to get much practice in for soccer.

“I think God likes the Argentines. Have you seen their women?”

Yes.

“Didn’t you date an Argentine back in high school?”

No.

“Yes you did. You did. I remember. You lost your virginity to an Argentine.”

No, that was Ricardo.

“Oh no. That was you. Now it all makes sense. I get it now.”

I get why I haven’t made any attempt to see you since high school.

“Didn’t it go down on a water bed during the 4th of July or something?”

I no longer wish to have this conversation.

“You love the Argentines…”

Mucho Amor,

El Guapo