About a year ago, when I applied to work at the friendly neighborhood grocery store, the application wanted to know what languages I spoke at the time. I checked English instinctively and then saw the next check box down, "Spanish," and a wave of pride and self-congratulation large enough to make me check that box as well washed over me. I had dreams of telling customers where the bathroom was and that the juice was in aisle 1 while my coworkers stared at me, jaws dropped, in awe of my bilingual skills.
Tops did not want me, so I never got to live out my dream of locating the juice for los hispanohablantes, but that was probably for the best. I did not realize the mistake I had made until much later.
I have not made my knowledge of Spanish a secret. It's something convenient to brag about, and most of the time, just saying a basic sentence like "Me gusta tu mochila" is enough to satiate people. Of all of the people I've shamelessly boasted to, the person who is undeniably most impressed is my mother, so I take every possible opportunity to speak Spanish when I'm speaking to her and relish the fact that A) she can't understand me and B) she doesn't care, because it proves to her that her son can do something she considers exceptional.
Yesterday, when I was in a Greek restaurant with her, I told the waitress that I wanted a side of tzatziki with my spanakopita. My ability to say these words impressed my mother beyond explanation (I didn't have the time to explain to her that I could only pronounce them because my friend works at a Greek restaurant and she taught me) and, somehow, in my mind, this translated to an opportunity to speak Spanish. My sentence was simple -- "Puedo hablar lenguas diferentes" -- and the chance for making a mistake was minimal.
Nonetheless, when my mouth opened to deliver the punch, I choked a little. I said the sentence so fast that it sounded like one word and my face turned rojo. Instantaneously, I started freaking out, looking around me to see if anyone surrounding me was speaking Spanish and trying to determine if they had heard me. My embarrassment was massive.
I thought about it for a while and determined that I was probably embarrassed because, at the end of the day, I feel fake. I know that my Spanish is tinged with a hint of my awful Western New York accent, and even though I take care to pronounce all of the vowels correctly, I can't do that fancy stuff with "t" or "rrrrr" and that gives me away. I have a nightmarish image in my mind of saying something in Spanish and looking behind me to find an entire family that was on vacation from Spain staring right back at me, coldly, judgmentally, forever exiling me from the group of people who are allowed to speak Spanish and shielding their children's ears from the horror of my speech.
I may have the ability to say "el jugo está en el primer pasillo", but I'd probably run away first. Especially if the people asking have cold, judgmental eyes and children.
