Is Mexico really far away from California?

16 07 2008

I arrived at the office around 3pm to pick up a student (which itself is rather unorthodox, as 99% of the time we pick up students at home).  He was waiting in the “reception” area, I went ahead and introduced myself, and we headed out to the car.  We were out there for about 10 minutes talking about such things as defrosters, blind spots, and emergency flashers.  I asked to see his permit, at which time he admitted that he doesn’t have one.

No problem, as a driving school we can issue temporary student permits. We head back inside and I get him started on the necessary paperwork in one of the empty classrooms. I return to the reception area and begin to catch up on my own paperwork.

There is a girl, who looks to be about 18 or 19 (maybe older) sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for whatever. There is always somebody sitting in one of those chairs waiting for something (for an instructor, for a class to start, etc), so I pay her no attention.

Out of nowhere, she asks, with a heavy Mexican accent, “Is that jour son?”

“No,” I reply, “one of my students.”

“Oh, jew teach drivers ed?”

“No, drivers training, you know, behind the wheel stuff.”

“Oh yah, Marvin is my instructor.”

(Marvin teaches drivers education, which is classroom learning, no actual driving involved)

“So you’re here for drivers ed tonight then?” I ask.

She had in her hand the big packet of papers that all drivers ed students carry around with them, so it was more of a question to make it seem like I’m not some kind of rude asshole.

And as I started to write this, I realized the story itself is not that interesting, so I’ll cut to the crazy parts.

She is 28 years old, has 3 kids, the oldest of which is 12 (Which means she was about 17 when her first kid was born). Her ex husband, who she had her three kids with, is currently 24 years old (or so she tells me), which means that he had to have been 12 or 13 years old when their oldest son was born, according to my own math. So somewhere in Mexico, a 12 year old boy banged a 17 year old girl (and then went back for seconds and thirds).

On top of all this, the girl was obviously flirting with me. This was later confirmed by both receptionists that were present for the conversation. The problem is, I really can’t stand talking to girls of her “caliber,” and I was really only being nice because she was a “customer” and I am an “employee.” She took my niceness the wrong way I suppose.

At one point I was sitting next to her (trying to go over the paperwork with my own student, as there are only three chairs), and I made an amusing quip that was mildly sarcastic. She was saying how it was hard for her to meet men, and I asked if it was because she had three kids. (Wait for it…)

She said that wasn’t the reason, but it was hard for her to meet guys because she is “shy” and from a “foreign country.” She went on to say that she was from Mexico.

As I have NEVER met a real Mexican because I live in the San Joaquin Valley, I said “Really, YOU’RE from MEXICO!” as sarcastically as I could. After she translated what I said and interpreted the sarcasm, she giggled and pinched my arm.

My shirt still smells like perfume in that spot. You know, like how one smells after leaving a strip club.

Before I left, I made sure that the receptionists knew NOT to schedule that girl with me for drivers training. I don’t know if I could tolerate being in a car with her for 2 hours at a time.

When I got back to the office later to finish up my end of the day paperwork, Marvin (who was not present for the events I just described) said to me (in a ball busting sarcastic tone) “I hear you specifically asked for one of my students for drivers training, huh?”

We got to talking about the situation, and he mentioned that he is pretty sure that the girl is “kind of slow.”

So now I’m irresistible to divorced mildly retarded strippers from Mexico. Life is good.

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