Don’t cut it too short.
No me lo corte demasiado corto. no me lo kor-te de-ma-sya-do kor-to
Shave it all off!
Aféitelo todo! A-fay-te-lo to-do
Please use a new blade.
Por favor, use una cuchilla nueva. Por fa-vor oo-se oo-na koo-chee-lya nwe-va
I should never have let you near me!
No debía haberla dejado tocarme! No de-bee-a a-ber-la de-kha-do to-kar-me
from a Latin American Spanish phrasebook
The guy on the beach said his friend Miguel would meet us at la bomba, which we figured out meant the gas station. He said it was on the main road. You couldn’t miss it, it was right after the arch. The arch looked like the arches in St. Louis, but much smaller, about the size of a goal post and concrete, old concrete, dirty like. We missed the arch the first time we drove through, and then we found it, but there were three or four gas stations right next to it so we had no idea where to go. So I called Miguel, I had his cell number. He answered, but he didn’t speak English. I don’t speak Spanish. I had my phrasebook. I threw some syllables together but he didn’t understand. I hung up angry.
We went to two gas stations, at the third one a kid, maybe thirteen years old, rode up to us on a moped. He had a Mohawk, or what once was a Mohawk, it was growing out. He had a sweet smile and a really old moped.
I said, “What’s your name?” in Spanish. I know that much Spanish.
He looked confused. I asked him again. He said Alberto.
We were supposed to be meeting someone named Miguel so I rolled up the window.
The kid was just sitting there on his moped looking at me through the window. He looked sad. There were some men standing around. A lot of them, actually.
John and I started to argue.
John said, “He wants you to roll down the window.”
“It’s not the right guy. What does he want?”
“Roll down the window; don’t be such a bitch.”
“No. We’re meeting someone named Miguel. This guy’s name is Alberto.”
One of the men came over and tapped on the window.
“Open the window, for christ’s sake,” said John.
I opened the window. I didn’t want to.
The man said, “This kid he take you to Miguel. You follow.”
Okay, then, fine. He should have just said so.