I have a favourite pastry vendor in San Pedro. There are a lot of such vendors – mostly older Mayan ladies with baskets filled with banana bread, carrot cake, chocolate cookies and more.
My favourite is the odd one out: a funny little boy named Luis who’s discovered my weakness for cinnamon buns.
“Quieres pan?” he yells out every time I walk by the docks. (I guess each vendor has a turf.)
“Quieres que yo sea gorda?” I respond. Do you want me to be fat?
“Si!”
One day he marches right into a cafe and sits down where I am working on my computer. I show him photographs of my family and my dog and we chat for a bit.
This funny looking dude (the same dude I once saw walking around in a Speedo and a puppy strapped to his back) walks in to the cafe. Again, he is wearing short shorts that are practically underwear.
“That man is not wearing pants” I whisper to Luis. He giggles. “Is that normal?” I ask.
“No,” Luis replies. “I’m wearing pants.”
The man with no pants walks up to us. “Hola Luis,” he says and walks out.
“Woooooow,” I say. “You know the man with no pants.”
“He was my friend,” Luis says. “But then he stopped buying stuff from me.”
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