so we're waiting on line to get into this gringo restaurant that serves breakfast all day ... stop me if you've heard this one ... and there is a couple in front of us, the man is white and the woman is black. out of the corner of my eye i see a merchant child selling postcards, making his way over to try to sell his wares to those of us stuck on the line. i avert my eyes and he passes us by, going instead to the couple ahead of us.
he walks up to the woman all proper-like, extending his hand to her. and then he says with great sincerity, "please to meet you michelle obama! you like to buy postcards?"
and that dear blog readers is why peruvian children can sell me almost anything.