“How you like your new rooms?” Jose asked.
“I like them good,” Mario said. “It’s better than when I used to live across the street next to you. The rooms is a lot bigger. You ought to get rooms over there, too.”
I was eating my salbutes and garnaches at the picnic table of my favorite local restaurant with Jose and Mario sitting at the other end of the table.
“I think I’m gonna stay where it’s cheap,” Jose said. “I bet your landlord asks a lot for the rent at your place.”
“He sure does,” Mario told him. “He asks me for it nearly every week.”
“It looks to me like it must be hotter over there, too.”
“It is,” Mario said. “That’s the only thing I don’t like about it. We have to leave the windows open all of the time.”
“I was kind of wanting to talk to you about that,” Jose said.
“What do you mean?”
“Promise me you won’t get mad if I ask you a question.”
“Aw, I ain’t gonna get mad, Jose. You know me better than that.”
“What I was gonna ask is why don’t you pull the curtain when you and your old lady is fooling around in the bed?”
“Why? What makes you ask that?”
“Well, last Saturday everybody on the street was watching you and your old lady through the window. You really should pull them curtains.”
“Last Saturday?”
“Yeah, last Saturday. I think every man, woman and child in the neighborhood passed by while that was going on.”
“Well, the joke is on them,” Mario said. “Last Saturday I went to Caye Caulker. I wasn’t even home.”
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