I was like him. I was not like my mother who was dead. I was like him. He was alive.
Ignoring my outstretched hand, with money in it, he leaned over the counter coming closer to me and asked in English, "Why are you ashamed of your Dominican heritage?" To this, I replied curtly, for the man to allow me to purchase the beverage. "Sell mi de bloodclaat Guinness nah man!"