Wednesday, February 28, 2018

February 28, 2018. Playa Royale, Mexico. Mexican Minutes.

A Mexican Minute is not 60 seconds.  A Mexican Minute could be anything from 5 minutes to 30.  Everyone knows the drill.  If you are told that someone will bring you a menu in a minute, you can be sure it will take at least ten minutes.  For some reason or other, in their culture, punctuality is vague.  Every day, the physical therapist comes to help Ken and every day when she leaves, she seriously tells me when she will be arriving the next day.   "I will be here tomorrow at 10:30," she says.   I just laugh and thank her for her help.  Tomorrow, she often walks in at 11:00 or even later.  But this morning, everything weren't perfectly on time.

The schedule was for Ken to have his blood and urine samples taken at 8:00am at the laboratory at the hospital.    Both nurses were to wheel him across the street with Rita accompanying to pay the bill.   The four of them left at 7:55.   Ian and I stayed home, expecting them to be gone for up to an hour.  But everything went perfectly.  The lab folks were ready.  The samples were taken and they were back home in ten minutes.  Everyone was stunned, and delighted.  Ken sat down for a big breakfast of cereal, 2 eggs and bacon with toast, a breakfast of champion, prepared by Rita.   This morning, the Mexican Minute was truly a minute.

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