¡Oye!

The  liquid swishes; it must have latin hips.

My hands become the leading partner, a very responsive leading partner.

Por aqui…

Drops of savoriness, I don’t want to loose your smooth hazelnut essence.

Suddenly the street changes tempo to see how fast my cup and I can cha cha cha to its pothole taps.  But I’m a veteran liquid dancer and have choreographed difficult streets before.

Oh yes, I have choreographed the dirt road soda can drink and highway cereal milk slurp.  This city street has nothing over me.

¡Aye!

May have to think twice as the warm liquid flirts dangerously with my hand.  Don’t be a tease; its our stop and now you’re all mine.

At least that’s my rationale.

So what sparked this exuberant outpouring?  I’m glad you asked.

It was the satisfaction in knowing I could displease and anger someone else without them being able to retaliate.  In essence, I won the argument before it could even begin.

How did I win?

With the perils of German road and drivers zipping by the end of the blind driveway my clever grandmother decided to try to stand in the driveway and signal to me when the coast was clear for my escape, unscathed hopefully.

There were three trials and errors, which resulted in my grandmother’s mad tapping on the trunk of the car to “oops! go back in the driveway, there are cars coming.”

I can’t resist to mention that this is my first time driving this rudimentary device known as a manual transmission and each time there is a false clearing of the roadway I have to maneuver from reverse to first gear without stalling or chance scathing my still perfect record.

Well, on the fourth start I assume that when a signal is given for “the coast is clear”, by golly it better be clear.

Yet again it’s a false start, another mad tapping on the trunk, however I react unexpectantly.  I stay in the street, I mean, these cars will just have to stop for crying out loud.  Now, me being in the street, it might behoove my grandmother to get in the car herself, but she keeps insisting that I go back into the driveway.

I “loose it”

Get in the car now…nothing…get in the car…still nothing…Get in the F’IN car!

In she comes.

Not a word is said as the car jumps and sputters away from first to second and third gear until we reach the corner and stop and go without stalling…”gee you’re doing pretty well with this.”

“Well, yes I am, good that you noticed.”