Pepinos Suave sits here, tapping out these words, sweating more than a cold glass of cherry kool-aid on a mid-day asphalt driveway. I'm sweating alot, for those who don't drink cold glasses of kool-aid, or who are not familiar with mid-day asphalt driveways on a Cuke County July afternoon.
On your average day, no matter the weather, Pepino Suave has the fortitude of a super heroe. Ask Pepina. Alas, my kryptonite, my aquilis (?) heal, my weakness is what I'm trying to say, are temperatures above 90 degrees farenheit when the humidity index is higher than water itself. When gills break out on my neck. When parts of me I didn't know I own chafe and burn like the coals of a thousand fires. When Li'l Pepinita fails to plead a plaintive and constant, "Let's wrestle". When it really is hotter than Hades. These are the times ol' Pepinito tosses aside his superheroe bravado, slumps his narrow shoulders, shuffles along, whining a mantra of , "Man, its hot", or "Hay pero que calor". Fans, the heat takes the Yippee out of me Skippee. Lo siento mucho. It's just that it is so hot...
Stay tuned for an account of how Pepino Suave endured carribean summers, or conversely, how the locals restrained themselves from pummeling a whiny, sweaty, bald headed gringo.
Hace demasiado calor,
Pepino Sudando
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