Dear Mexican: I'm so perplexed by my Mexican neighbor. For one, he already has four girls, and I just saw his wife—and looks like she's pregnant AGAIN! What really bothers me is that I live in an affordable-housing unit. The rent is cheap and based on our income. He has a new Ford F150 truck, and his wife drives an older-model BMW.
Well, what bugs the hell out of me is that he digs in the apartment complex trashcans every freakin' day. I live in a large complex where there are about six trash bins. Every morning, before he takes his girls to school, he digs in all of them for recyclables.
I wonder if I'm just jealous, because he must make like $300 a week on all the stuff he recycles, but it really bugs me. If he's so freakin' poor and digging in the trash for an occupation, why must he still continue to bring more children into the world? The city I live in has a "no scavenging" law. I really want to report him, but I feel guilty. I feel like I should let him keep digging in the trash, since he has a family to feed. Also, I guess I'm nosey, too, 'cause I wonder if the mother and/or father work. I don't think they do, and I wonder if they're abusing welfare. And I wonder how many freakin' girls he's going to have before he gives up his dream on having a son.
OK, well, I hope you can help me with this issue. Am I evil? Should I care less? Help.
Pocha Cabrona in Chino
Dear Pocha: You're not evil, chula, just pendeja.
You—an assimilated Mexican American—still have to live in affordable housing? So much for breaking the stereotypes of Mexicans as lazy peons. Meanwhile, that wab who bugs you so much is hustling, digging through garbage for a couple of extra bucks—and it's obviously working out, since he's living a better life than your floja ass.
Who cares if he wants to have more kids? That's his decision, not yours. Maybe you'd be better off in life if you picked through trash—but I'm sure you think that's beneath you. Meanwhile, you're wondering if your Mexican neighbor is on welfare when YOU are on the government queso. My immigrant parents, who always scrimped and saved—and bought massive trucks and SUVs, because no honorable hombre should ever leave home without one—never took a government dime; that is beneath them, since that's such an American thing to do.
If ever there were a case for Mexicans to not allow their children to assimilate, you'd be the poster niña, pendeja.
I got asked to participate in an Internet radio show where I, as an alleged (mostly by me) Mexican comedian, will be asked questions like, "Why are Mexicans so funny?" Since I'm as Mexican as a Del Taco stand, I defer to you for some insight and wisdom that I can share to the show's four audience members.
Dear Wab: Have you talked to our pocho cousins? There's a veritable Comstock lode of material for ridicule there!
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