We’re sitting in the elegant, high-ceilinged dining room of a Manhattan hotel. It’s a beautiful summer morning, and sunlight streams through the tall windows overlooking the treetops of Central Park.
The waiters, mostly Hispanic, aren’t paying any attention to the view. (And not much to the customers, either.) Most of the time they’re roughhousing with each other, joking amongst themselves in Spanish.
One of them gives another a shove. And then — “coño!” rings out across the restaurant.
The Constant Companion raises his eyebrows. “Did I just hear what I think I heard?”
For readers who don’t speak Spanish: coño has exactly the same meaning as a certain four-letter English word which also begins with “c”. And even these days, it tends to get your attention.
The Japanese maître d’ probably didn’t notice, but any Spanish speakers certainly would – and by my estimate they made up at least a third of the people in the room on this particular morning. The ones within earshot must have been startled at best and, at worst, possibly reconsidering their choice of hotel.
So por favor, hombres — do your job. Take the orders, serve the meals, pour the coffee — and hold the coño.