The Brazilian Arts Foundation in Houston, Texas, celebrated Brazilian Independence Day with much fan fair in the middle of the Theater District. There were free samba lessons, capoeira demonstrations, performances--none of which I could actually watch. I celebrated Brazilian Independence Day (even though I am Indian American) by selling beer. Many people of Brazilian descent and other various ethnic descents purchased many beers from our modest little bar. One could say I fulfilled a little fantasy of mine, being a quasi-bartender for a night. I really wanted to juggle the cans of Budweiser, Bud Light, and Bud Select. Now, a few people actually attempted to speak Portuguese to me, which I did not understand at all. I even got asked, "Wait, you're not Brazilian?" Of course, all brown people look alike, I know, yet, I found it very flattering that these old white men would think I would be Brazilian. Now, I figure, Brazilians are all hot, women and men alike. Now, if one were to confuse little, Indian me for one of the hot Brazilian chicks, then, if A=B and B=C, then, I must be hot! Ha, ha. . .
I realized that men drinking alcohol are very relaxed. Eventually, they start talking to you. I also realized that men love women who are selling them booze. Of course, I really don't drink, because I love to harass drunk people. However, men really start flirting with women who sell them booze. I mean, it's not like I was giving it away. I had to take their four drink tickets. However, if I would talk to them, they would actually respond. I flashed my pearly whites, and they reciprocated. They even laughed at all of my stupid jokes, and, I must confess, they were pretty lame. I felt like I found the Holy Grail of picking up dudes, since I was a hot, pseudo-Brazilian chick selling expensive cheap booze to semi-intoxicated men for a night.
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