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Escrito por ZihuaRob desde 189.147.47.89 (dsl-189-147-47-89.prod-infinitum.com.mx) el día martes, 18 de septiembre, 2007 a las 12:36:36 horas :
En respuesta a: Re: Right on! Most excellent news! escrito por frostbite desde 69.178.109.110 (110-109-178-69.gci.net) el día martes, 18 de septiembre, 2007 a las 11:43:18 horas :
ja ja ja ja ja... I assure you it was in good fun.
Let me tell you a little story about "flojo".
In 1974 when I first started dating Lupita we were sitting near the beautiful estuary (now a putrid canal) next to where the museum is back when it was the Palacio Federal and her father was the telegraph operator there. I could barely speak Spanish beyond the present tense and Lupita didn't speak any English, though we never let that little detail stop us from conversing. Lupita asked me what I did all day, and I proceeded to tell her that before I got out of my hammock where I slept I usually smoked a joint or two left over from the night before, I would then get up and take a nice chug or two off our bottle of mezcal (a wine carafe bottle with a wide mouth that while it sat open on the table every now and then a fly would land on the lip and keel over and fall in from the fumes, so it had a few preserved dead flies in it), then I would drink my coffee and head off into town for a licuado for breakfast, then off to the beaches to play frisbee and drink beer with my friends all day. She looked at me with the cutist smile on her face and with the sexiest voice said "Entonces, eres un flojo." Now that was a word I didn't know then, but since I couldn't imagine her being anything but serious or saying anything less than flattering I assumed it was something good and I asked "¿Flojo es bueno?" and she assured me with that winner smile of hers that it was. So I said "Sí, yo soy un flojo." Sure that it was something positive and elated to have received the supposed compliment. We finally said our good-byes for that day and during the entire walk back from town to our house at the end of La Ropa Beach I kept thinking dreamily to myself over and over "My love said I was a flojo. It must mean something wonderful! I can't wait to look it up in the dictionary." All the way home, over and over. Starry eyed and in love. "Soy un flojo."
I got home and looked up flojo in the dictionary. "No, THAT can't be the right translation. There must be a similar sounding word I am confusing it with." But nope, there wasn't. She had called me lazy.
Well, we had a good laugh the next day, and we still laugh about it to this day. But that was also the day I decided never to pretend to understand something I didn't. And since then I've always been diligent about looking up new words or asking for a simple definition in Spanish that I can understand. But careful asking for translations because that's when folks can have a little sport with you at your expense. ;~)
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