Cosas que me han dicho los gringos que he conocido en Nueva York:
Él: “Wow. You´re the whitest Mexican I´ve ever seen”.
Él: “You Spanish?”
Yo: “No. Mexican”.
Él: “Isn´t that the same thing?”
Yo: “Are you British?”
Él: “Not really”.
Yo: “Then how come I´m Spanish?”
Él: “I don´t get it”.
Él: “How can you be Mexican? Your last name sounds German”.
Él: “So. You´re a white Mexican”.
Yo: “Mexican will do”.
Él: “White. White Mexican”.
Yo: “There aren´t two races. Either you´re Mexican or you´re not”.
Él: “So…. You´re not Mexican”.
Ella (tras entregarme mi café): “You travelling? When are you going back to Spain?”
Él: “Mexico is filled with shoe stores. That´s all they have down there”.
Él: “I´m writing this screenplay about two Mexican kids who just jumped the border and are looking for work around L.A. but they don´t speak a word of English. The story begins with a knife fight”.
Él (queriendo hablar de política Mexicana): “Vicente didn´t help you guys that much, did he?”
Ella (tras decirme que ha viajado por Sudáfrica, Japón, China, Europa y el sureste asiático): “I´ve been thinking about going to Canada”.
Yo: “Why not visit Mexico? We´re three hours away from you guys”.
Ella: “Well, I´ve been to Cancún”.
Ella: “Wow. You came back. You didn´t get kidnapped?”
Él: “Of course this guy can drink, he´s Mexican!”
Y sobre México y la inmigración, estás dos joyas: