"Hey, José, long time no see. How are you?" I belted out to catch an acquaintance's attention on the other side of the street.
"Not bad, Walter. Hey how are you?" José blurted back, making his way across the street to greet me.
"Excelente. What happened to you? Are you still living in Masaya?" extending my hand.
"Always. I will die here. I thought you moved back to Estelí or something like that," José responded.
"Nope. I've been spending more time in Costa Rica recently, but I still live here, José. My mansion is in La Reforma," laughing at my own joke.
"Well that explains that. It doesn't explain why you don't answer your phone," eyeing me skeptically.
"Well, that's odd. I still have the same number. Oh well," sighing and then preparing myself for an amicable adios.
"Before you go, write down your number for me Walter," José demanded.
Patting down my pockets, "I have a pen, José but no paper."
"Well I don't have my phone on me either. "Here, scribble it down on this," reaching down and picking up something from the street.
"On this? Are you serious?" I asked incredulously.
"Of course," he retorted. "Hurry up, I have a meeting."
"Okay," I sheepishly replied. "Here you go."
"Gracias. Take care, Walter."
"Ciao, José."
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