panic in V*n N*ys | 2002-03-13 - 9:33 p.m.


Under different circunstancias, the expression of pura rabia on my landlord's face would have made me piss my chonis with glee. But there was no time for laughter now. No. I was two steps from getting tossed out on mi culo if I did not think of something pront�simo.

But what? I racked los sesos trying to come up with a way out of this impossible situation. Every synapse was firing, but due to my heightened sense of panic, ninguna de las soluciones that came to mind were any better than Se�or Bush's economic recovery package. Hmm, I thought. I could let the landlord call in the police, but what would happen to mi hermano? I could run away with Alicia y Jes�s, but what would happen to Concha? I could save them all and cudgel my landlord with a tire iron, but what in demonios would happen to me?

I was about to tear my hair out by its all-too-visible roots when my self-preservation instincts suddenly kicked in. De repente, I knew what had to be done.

"Oh my God, oh my God," I screamed. "Terroristas! They've reached V*n N*ys!" And no sooner had I screamed these words than I was pushing my landlord to the ground.

"AAAAAGGGGH!" screamed my landlord as I threw all my weight on him. I don't know if it was from fear or from pain, but he suddenly went limp under me.

Concha didn't wait around to see what would happen next. Antes de my inert landlord could regain el sentido, she gunned the engine and with a squeal of tires, peeled out of the apartment complex. A few segundos later, I heard the honking of horns and the yelling of expletives on the main drag and knew she was home free.

Alicia ran to me. Her eyes were wide with concern. It was just like a scene from Baywatch, except we were fully clothed and as far from the beach as you can get on Metro. "Oh my God, Castigada! Are you alright?"

Getting up and dusting myself off, I assessed the damage. A few minor bruises, a broken nail, but nothing that couldn't be cured with a little shopping terape�tica. Mi landlord, on the other hand, was not doing so good. He was starting to stir, but was still face down on the concrete, like he was having trouble getting up o algo.

Mi hermano staggered over, knelt down, and peered into my landlord's face. "You don't look so good," he told him. "You should lie down." Then mi hermano rolled into fetal next to him.

"Shhhh, don't cry," he mumbled into my landlord's arm. "At least the terrorists are gone."

anterior - siguiente

pride and prejudice - 2004-09-07
wherein I become a Yahoo! Search Result - 2004-06-23
like 9-11 all over again - 2004-06-20
enough said - 2003-02-05
tirar por la calle de en medio - 2003-01-28

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