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It got hot and humid quickly today. At the 25-mile mark I made a scheduled stop to refill water and purchased a Coke for the calories (it reminded me how much I dislike sodas) but by the 50-mile mark I had dried up again. 

Here’s where the title comes in to play: As I was going through a neighborhood, one of those travelling chef trucks was serving some construction workers. I got off my bike and walked over. Yes, I stood out a little being in spandex and all. Anyway the lady serving really only knew Spanish.  For those of you who don’t know me well, I love food. And for that reason, I have learned how to ask for and order specific things in a few different languages. At times, that does get me in trouble as the recipient of my horrible attempt at their native tongue leads that person to assume I actually know the language and they often start up a conversation in which I am quickly lost.

However, today it worked in my favor. I simply greeted her, asked for a large water bottle and some peanuts or nuts. When she pulled out the large water she began telling me (in very fast Spanish) that it had a sports top which would be good since I’m on a bike. How do I know that, well, I’m not 100% sure that’s what she said, but she did point at the sport nozzle on the bottle and sounded happy to show it to me. I thought this would turn into a conversation in which I’d quickly be lost but fortunately some others came up and ordered some really good looking food. I then asked how much and then paid. (By the way, it was cheap.)

An international incident was avoided. Oh, along this topic… Met a lady from Mexico the other day with some family and she had a picture of her with a horse. So I tried to say that she was a cowgirl. Note “tried.” It came out wrong and I called her a caballo. I did realize what I said the moment she pulled her fist back to hit me and corrected myself with vaquera.  What, it’s the same thing, right…