Todos Santos is small and we see the same people all the time. The beaten down truck with its name in the window : “El Retiro”. The same middle-aged American loners in sheriff hats. We call them Rancheros. One of the usual rancheros came up to our table as he was leaving La Esquina, our breakfast spot. He looked at Antoine straight in the eye and with a southern drawl told him “You know you’re a very lucky man” pointing at me in my tiny dress with his chin, as though I were some kind of motorised vehicle. He then walked out to the parking lot, adjusting his hat. What a dick.
Later that day, I died laughing when Antoine made fun of my mirror face and did impressions. My mirror face is ridiculous indeed. It must be, since many commented on it. Friends and boyfriends always found it so strange that I make a face that I would never do naturally when I look at myself,sucking in my cheeks like Zoolander. I remember being told it’s as if I licked my armpit every time I was in front of my reflection.