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I was angry that the world works the way that it does. After a nap, I walked to the Dunn Hotel, and the curtain of dusk had already fallen.Men filled the street corners, stood in the shadows of the buildings’ eaves.There is no word in English for madrugada — that time between midnight and dawn, the gray nearly.He followed me barefoot into the street, kissed my cheek, handed me my bag, and I said, “hasta,” meaning soon. They whistled at me as I passed, calling out to me: “.” I hurried by, looked at my shoes. I knew I shouldn’t be walking through the streets of San Jose alone at dark but wished I didn’t have to shrink at the catcalls of men. “I’m in for whatever.” In the bathroom of the salsa club, I stared into the mirror. I said this: Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it, as if anyone ever talked herself out of something in a bathroom mirror.We hugged hello and then each had a glass of wine, and it was obvious the bottle had been open for days if not weeks. He told me about his life in San Jose, if he would ever return to the States. “And to tell you the truth, I can’t see it.” We then went to a tapas bar, split a bottle of Rioja, and shared two plates of tapas. I went back onto the dance floor and after one spin, my resolution was broken.We had both switched to water hours before and the only thing he had to drink was cheap whiskey. I do remember being embarrassed because my sandals had cut indented stripes across the tops of my swollen feet.
The streets were beginning to fill with the madrugadas, early morning workers.[Read More...]We are able to provide NIST traceable calibrations for the variables and parameters listed below.