The Perks of Being a Cuban.

Keeps the juices flowing

Diego skipped barefoot thtough his paved backyard, whihch was'nt really a backyard as much as it was a 20 x 20 patch of brick and weeds. His mother laughed at him through a window in the kitchen, an ancient dusty fan buzzed and blew against the tshirt that stuck to her sweaty back. She laughed because Diego wasnt skipping like most kids do, he was doing it involuntarily, it was too hot to keep his feet on the brick for too long and "too hot to wear sneakers." In the yard, Diego could see his classmates and their younger siblings playing in open hydrants, getting yelled at by policemen, and then getting beaten by their parents for making them open the hydrant to begin with. A man was sitting in his car with all four doors opened, blasting a heavy-bass version of Hips Don't Lie by Shakira. He bobbed his head and wiped the sweat off his greasy brow, winked at girls who danced down the street to the songs infectious sound, flashed his gold tooth, and frowned as they laughed and ran away. "Oye Diente Midas" Diego hears from a distance, they're calling the gilded toothed one, "Vamos a freir huevos!" He jumps out of his car, Shakira still looping, and crouches down on the sidewalk. Three men gather around and toss eggs on the street. One man in a headband and wifebeater is holding the pepper. The egg however runs down the sidewalk, away from the men and slowly drips into a drain along the curb. "Caramba, queria huevos".