Ummm… No

November 24, 2014

I was in Oropesa. I needed a sandwich and a coke. There was a terrace. In order to get there, I had to take the whike off the sidewalk through a handicap ramp and park it. Two ladies—their backs facing me– were obstructing the ramp and, since they would not move I whistled. They turned around staring at the sail as if they were about to get hit by it. One of them exclaimed “I’m so sorry!” I guess apologies and compassion go well together because she added “May we help you?” I sighed and smiled, they crossed and I maneuvered.
At the terrace, there was just a six-people table left. I asked the waiter if I could sit there—“of course!” he uttered. He went to get my drink while five other people in sports equipment arrived. The sat down at my table without saying a word. I have traveled quite a lot and I’m not the type to get offended by things like that, not do I get uncomfortable, hence I kept looking at the sea while waiting. They started talking, sign language, they were deaf.
In the meantime, they two ladies still were around; they had gone to the ATM machine to withdraw some money and were back at the bar. They sat down in a small table that was available behind us. When they noticed that we were deaf, the compassionate one felt sorry again: “oh, I kind of knew something was wrong to the one with the weird bike” “Yeah”–replied the other “They better honk the horn on him” I was ready to reply at that moment saying that it was a miracle but my sandwich arrived.
At that moment, three tables behind me, a couple with a 5-year-old kid had just finished and were ready to leave. The open-mouthed kid got close to the whike: “Wow, how cool!” “Dad, is this for flying?” “Whose this?—asked him while looking at me. His daddy said: “yes, son but I don’t think he can hear you” I was quiet, with my mouth full…The wind would not blow one bit.