Just a daily dose of BsAs's morning tango.

Dear lady solving her family angst on the phone in a tiny cafe. Why did you come here to do it? "The problem with Carlos is that he doesn't talk, he suffers, he plays golf but he suffers, and it fills me with angst... wait can you hear me? Oh, ok. Wait do you hear me? Oh, ok. I'm suffering I'm in pain. The girl... the boy... well her I'll talk to again, but.... OH the pain. Wait do you hear me? Okay." And then she whispers. Screams then whispers. Screams then whispers. "But HE DOESN'T WANT TO TALK TO THE GIRL, he talks to me, mama, papa, mama, papa."  Screams, whispers, screams whispers. "It's her I worry about not me. I do it for her not me. Oh no she doesn't care about people. But how could I be mad at her, she's my daughter. I don't care about her. But Carlos is weird. And it hurts me for him not to be happy..."

Okay, hope she's okay. Most of the other people in the cafe left and stared at her on their way out. Time to put on headphones. Oh wait she's leaving! She seems like she's doing fine. But apparently everything that happens to her twenty-nine-year-old daughter needs to be public knowledge.
Oh no she changes her mind. Sits back down.
Deep sighs. "Oh, please." She hangs up.
Orders another coffee. Makes another phone call.

"Hola, Carlos...."

Great.
Just a daily dose of BsAs's morning tango.