It's not finished and probably never will be for I am not quite sure where to go with it.
As I pulled into the parking lot with trepidation in my heart realizing that I was about to enter the intimate abode of a paisano of the woman who caused me such pain a moment of hesitation held the car door shut. As I stepped out into the stinging mist, finally freeing the door from my reluctant grasp, ushering small children briskly into the shelter of the breezeway, I heard my subconscious repetitively uttering a silent prayer: "Please, God, don't let the husband be good looking. Please, God, don't let the husband be good looking. Please, God, don't let the husband be good looking." I knew that had I looked upward and said "Oh, man! Why didn't you answer my prayers?" I would never be welcomed without hesitation and wonderings of "Why are we friends with this gringa loca?" again. I greeted the man, smiling ear to ear with a look of roughened exuberance on his face. Dark skinned, he looked just what I thought a Dominican should look like. Shorter than I stood, the light coming from the breezeway lamps glistened in his eyes that shined like the reflection of the moon at midnight in the dark tropical waters of some remote island he was probably very familiar with. Â¡Por DÃos! Why do you torment me so?
I went in anyway, not completely knowing why. My sweet friend, whose sweet face was filled with nothing but her smile if she if ever decided to do so, was standing there, cooking foreign smelling food. The large aluminum pot that she began to bend over was larger around than she was, in fact, large enough for me to sit in. I never realized that people would use such large cookware on their stoves. If major appliances could talk it would have groaned underneath the pressure of such a massive kettle. Now I know why the Spanish word for pot sounds suspiciously close to cauldron.
Notes: paisano - fellow countryman(woman - whatever: I've never been good at that PC thing)
gringa loca - crazy outsider (loosely translated - crazy American chick)
Â¡Por DÃos! - again, loosely translated - Dear God!
Spanish is certainly not my first language and if you feel that I have terribly screwed up, please let me know so I can fix it. Thanks!