Embarrassing moments
But whenever my mother or brothers took the kids for the day or the weekend, I would show up at Gaby's pasta shop, claiming that I was there 'to help'.
My 'help' would normally be circumscribed to serving mate and doing stuff on the computer; sometimes, however, I was summoned to be in charge of the register or even to deal with the customers, which would give me the chance to showcase my histrionic talent and my undeniable comedic skills... well, that's what I thought anyway.
I would joke with the little kids, either singing Opera whenever I was selling pasta, or asking what milk colour they wanted, like the great Carlos Cela had done with me years before. Some of the kids would try a nervous smile, but most of them would look at me with a face that I could read as 'Oh, my God, I want to get outta here now!', which was definitely not the expected result for me.
But the most embarrassing moment happened one day I was taking care of a lady who was not only very well known to Gaby and the family, but also to the neighbourhood, as she was the wife of a famous TV host. It was my turn to take care of her that day, and she asked me if we still had some bread.
- Yes, Madam, we still have a few of these…
I then picked up a plastic bag, in which I quickly put the six or seven pieces of bread we still had left. As I always did, I held the bag by its end and then made it rotate in the air so I could tie the ends together...
The other end of the bag was open, so the bread came out flying in all directions, though most of them hitting the poor lady on her body and face. An 'unforgettable' moment for me, which got even worse due to my instantaneous reaction.
With a 'nothing important has happened here' expression, I looked at the lady and said naturally:
- No, Mrs. Badía, we don't have any more bread...
Pero cada vez que mi mamá o mis hermanos se llevaban a los chicos a pasar el día o el fin de semana, yo me le aparecía a Gaby en el negocio, diciendo que iba a 'ayudar'.
Mi ayuda por lo general se limitaba a cebar mate y pasar cosas en la computadora; a veces, sin embargo, era llamado a tomar control de la registradora o directamente a atender al público, lo que me daba la posibilidad de desplegar todo mi histrionismo y comicidad... O al menos eso creía yo.
Les hacía bromas a los chicos, ya sea cantando ópera cuando les vendía pasta o preguntando de qué color querian la leche, como el gran Carlos Cela había hecho conmigo anos atras. Algunos chicos se reían nerviosos, pero la mayoría me miraba con cara de 'Dios mío, quiero irme de aquí ya mismo!', lo que definitivamente no era el resultado esperado por mí.
Pero el peor papelón lo pasé con una señora muy conocida no sólo por ser amiga de la familia y vecina del barrio, sino también por ser la esposa de un conductor de TV muy conocido. Justo me tocó atenderla a mí ese día y me preguntó si quedaban algunos pancitos de grasa.
- Si señora, quedan unos pocos…
Corté una bolsita de polietileno, en la que rápidamente introduje los seis o siete pancitos que quedaban. Como siempre hacía, tomé la bolsita de las puntas y la hice girar en el aire para poder atarla luego...
La bolsita se abrió de abajo y los pancitos salieron volando en todas direcciones, aunque la mayoría de ellos impactaron en el cuerpo y cara de la asustada señora. Un papelón inolvidable, aumentado por mi instantánea reacción.
Con cara de "Aquí no ha pasado nada", la miré a la señora y con mucha naturalidad le dije:
- No, Señora de Badía, pancitos de grasa no me quedan mas...
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