Feasting on Immigrants
“Let’s go eat Italian,” they said.
“How about Mexican?” they asked.
I didn’t know that they meant we were going to eat at restaurants.
At the end of last week — the week before winter break, the week of my teaching observations, the longest week of the entire school year so far — it felt like we were ready to embark on acts of cannibalism. We’d be in Andersonville, a perfect place if there was any to be found in Chicago, and so we could feast upon the powers gained from immigrant cultures of two different continents.
Instead, I ended up with pasta one day, and quesadillas on another. My coworkers can be such teases.
But it’s probably for the best that we didn’t feast on any immigrants. In every restaurant, I was one of the darker ones. And in social gatherings, other people make me sleepy. At a cannibal banquet, then, I’d be out of luck.
But if I could gain powers from eating immigrants, I’d definitely want those with cool accents and freaky metabolisms.
felixnation :: Dec.29.2006 :: Odysseys, People, The Coal Mine, coworkers :: No Comments »