Or Tex-Mex, even.
By no means am I bi-lingual, but living in Texas, which happens to border up to Mexico, well, we are all going to learn a little Spanish here and there.
I can talk to you about fajita, cerveza, and ask where el bano is all day long. I learned all of that in high school.
I can also conjugate verbs.
I know enough to know that I do NOT know exactly what barbacoa is, where it came from, or how it was made. I know that it tastes good and I don’t WANT to know. I also know that I won’t go anywhere near menudo, but that the best tacos on the planet come from a tiny place where I don’t match everyone else and can only discuss tacos.
And, as of recently, thanks to friends and coworkers who shall remain nameless, I can tell when someone is talking about me…
I can ask you what you want.
I can say, “Yeah, I’m a white girl, so?” (This is important sometimes.)
I can call you and your mother every bad name in the book.
Lesson of the day– When someone teaches you a phrase in a foreign language…. Look it up.
What you are repeating might not be, “Why, please be quiet, kind sir…”
And instead it may be too colorful for me to post here because my mother reads this.