On Wednesday morning at the seminary, our team ran out of creamer for its coffee. That’s a no-no for many American adults, especially for those who have to get up at 6:00 a.m. In order to remedy the situation, Veronica and I said we would buy more creamer that day.
So, during a pit stop at Más X Menos (a.k.a. Wal-Mart) outside of
As the three of us were talking while standing in line—maybe one step from the convenient conveyor belt in the checkout line at Más X Menos—the woman in front of us finished unloading her groceries out of her cart. The three of us, in an honorable and considerate manner, continued talking for a few seconds before placing our creamer behind her groceries on the conveyor belt.
However, as we turned to place our creamer down, two nuns came darting out of the line behind us, swooped down on the conveyor belt like two ferocious, starving hawks and, as fast as worker bees collecting pollen in a fresh field of flowers, started throwing down their groceries onto the conveyor belt that was inches away from us.
Talk about a double take.
The next night, Veronica and I were telling that story to Javier, our bus driver for the week. We were all laughing pretty hard, but Javier didn’t seem too surprised. Apparently, nuns have given him grief before.
Anyways, as Veronica, Matt, and I were standing in line at dinner to receive our choice of delicious deserts, Javier zooms into the kitchen, cuts in front of the three of us with a rather graceful slide, then turns around and yells, “YO SOY MONJA!!!!!!”