Archive | 5:15 am

I’m A Mexican, Not a Mexican’t

17 Apr

Guess what I did tonight?  Go ahead, take a guess!!  I’ll give you a hint: it involved celebrating my Mexican heritage.

Any guesses?

I bought a lawn mower!  Finally, at the age of 34 I fully embraced my roots.  My dead abuelita (that means grandmother) would have been so proud.  It’s a very shiny red Craftsman.  So pretty.  I eagerly raced home to take it out of the box and finally cut down the jungle that was taking over my front lawn.  Oh, if it were only that simple.  That bastard mower was heavy. 

After unpacking the damned thing, filling it with oil, and gasoline-it was time to get started.  20 freaking minutes, that’s how long it took me to figure it out.  Yeah, I’m slow, I know.  There I was, pushing the thing thinking, “this blasted thing is really heavy,” when it occurred to me that I had to adjust the height.  Der!  That totally fixed the weight of the blasted thing.  It did not, however, bring back the grass that I cut so low that it will probably never grow back.  Great.  Super.

Wait, it gets better.  After adjusting the height and finishing one side of the lawn, it was time to move on to the tricky side.  The one side of the lawn is tricky for a few reasons: there’s an octagonal wooden box around a tree, a light post, and a water meter low in the grass (I think you know where this is going).  “Don’t hit the water meter.  Don’t hit the water meter,” I chanted to myself.  Apparently I was too worried about hitting it to pay attention to where the hell it was and I promptly ran over the bugger.  There was a terrible grinding noise and then shiny new Craftsman just stopped.

“Shit,” I thought, followed by relief that I purchased that warranty from Sears.  The stupid thing didn’t want to start so I flipped the mower over.  Blade wasn’t looking so hot, but it didn’t look dead.  I tried again and it finally started.  Thank freaking God!  The water meter, on the other hand, didn’t fare so well.  Not sure who the hell I’m supposed to call to get that fixed.  Oops. 

This experience has taught me something very important about my being Mexican: I should stick to eating Tacos and drinking Coronas.  Mowing the lawn is not for me.