According to Sheri: Hijo de Puta

Al fin llego la columa de Sheri.
Valio la pena esperar, esta muy bueno el post. Y no solo es veridico, sino que ademas es cierto.

The Bitcher Chronicles: Hijo de Puta

When I was younger I used to have this fear of boredom, I thought that to be bored was tragic and therefore was constantly in search of excitement and drama…and I was always able to find it. Now that I'm an adult (at least physically) I no longer search for drama or excitement, it just seems to find me as if drawn to me by some uncontrollable magnetic force.

Last night I went to over hang out with some friends from school and then go to go eat at a parrilla near their house. After paying the cab driver who, by the smell of the cab had been in the front seat farting silently the entire ride, I quickly got out of the cab and walked 6 feet to the doorstep of my friends' house and rang the doorbell. Just as I did this, a guy comes up to me with a sharp object under the sleeve of his jacket and says to me "Dame la cartera!" (Give me your purse!) And I say "No, es mia!" (No, its mine!) And so the guy actually punches me in the arm and steels the purse and takes off running down the street. Finally my friend Simon comes out and asks in his German demeanor of disinterest what happened. I pointed down the street at the thief rounding the corner holding my Jessica Simpson purse like a football. We chase after him, me surprisingly fast in 3 inch heals. Just around the corner we see two guys sitting on a bench and we ask them in overly-proper Spanish "Ustedes han visto un ladron con una cartera?" "Si, por alla" they say pointing down the street. But then we notice that one of them is out of breath. Simon says to me…Sheri you are thinking the other one on the bench is the ladron? See how he breaths a lot? It was true, one of the guys on the bench was out of breath, but he wasn't wearing a blue jacket like the thief earlier and he also had a hat over his face. The out of breath guy on the bench bent down to his side to hide something when a pocket knife fell out on to the ground, and just next to it I saw light reflect of off the buckle of my Jessica Simpson purse. "There it is!" I screamed. Simon looked at me and said "Agararla!…I got your back!" So I reached down within inches of the knife and the thief, grabbed my purse, and ran off. The thief just sat there without trying to chase after me or anything. After I rounded the corner I looked in the purse to see what was missing. Nothing… everything was still there! My cell phone, my wallet complete with cash and credit cards…everything. I couldn't believe that I was so lucky to have been robbed by the stupidest thief in the entire world! Not to mention I sort of felt like a hardass for getting my OWN purse back. If it were to happen again, the only thing I think I would do differently is punch the guy back…my arm still hurts where that fucker punched me.