Cuban Fury [283]

I tried to make a burrito in front of her, I was going to put the beans on one side of the flour tortilla and the cheese on the other. I was going to show her that when you put the beans and cheese together it makes the burrito stronger, better. <br>I opened the can of beans and stirred them with a wooden spoon. The steam rose and for a moment I felt like the burrito man. I tossed the spoon down onto the counter and turned to grab the tortilla. I had to move fast; I turned quickly. I thought for a moment she must have been impressed. <br>I saw myself as a matador. Red silk in my hand: the flour tortilla. The bull charges. I toss the flour into the air. The bull leaps. I catch the flour and wrap the beans and cheese together. The bull dies of the most delicious wound you have ever imagined.<br><br><br>I turned to her. She shook her head. I tried again. I turned back around, but the flour was gone. I turned back to her. She held the flour and smiled. She was the matador now. She tossed the flour in the air.<br><br>I charged. I was the bull.<br>I felt like Hemingway. I was the old man and the sea. A hero.<br>I jumped for the silk, for the flour. And I felt like a cartoon character. <br>She caught the flour. She wrapped the beans and cheese together. She had killed the bull. I was not a hero. I was a joke.<br><br>And I never felt more handsome.