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All was not quiet last Saturday night in the sleepy Southern New York hamlet of Greenburgh as local father of two Mitchell Weiss received rave reviews for his accurate portrayal of a Hispanic accent. Weiss, who dined with family in tow at La Cocina, “thoroughly impressed” everyone sitting at adjacent tables, which he claims was, “in no way [his] intention.”
“People are saying that I’m some kind of ‘genius,’ but it’s not about intelligence, although I do have a relatively high IQ and salary,” Weiss told The Noser. “It’s just about speaking Spanish the way it was intended to be pronounced, with flowing r’s, vivaciously lisped s’s and nonexistent j’s.”
“It’s about respect for your linguistic forefathers,” Weiss said as he bit into a taco al carbon before yelping, “Ooh, it’s, like, spicy hot.”
Weiss’ near-flawless display began when he summoned a nearby waiter with his lilting call of, “Excuse me, hombre,” of course rolling the “r.” A few nearby parties seemed to audibly gasp, and one man called out, “Oh my lord, this dad knows Spanish! Everyone sit back, we’re about to get a clinic!”
Weiss then turned to his children and began, “Danny will have a … ,” trailing off to allow his son to fill in the blank with his order. When Danny responded with an uninspired, “Enchiladas, with a side of beans,” Weiss deftly smacked his son on the wrist and said: “Lo siento, hombre, but my son would like the en-chi-la-das con fri-jo-les.” Weiss apologized again for his son’s insolence and then took an under-the-radar bow, which he “hoped no one noticed.” He received scattered applause.
The display did not end there, however. Mid-meal, when Weiss asked for “el agua,” the restaurant’s manager offered an unscripted Mariachi performance, on the house. Later, when Weiss requested the bill, then added “Señor” unprompted, a nearby attractive woman fainted with delight and a wandering busboy shed a single tear. On the way out of the restaurant, Weiss launched into a heartfelt rendition of the Spanish power ballad “Besame La Boca,” so impassioned that it caused the hostess to kill herself later that evening.
“I’ve never seen anything like it before,” said Hector Gonzalez, Weiss’ waiter. “He looked like a Jewy Westchester resident, but when he spoke, with perfect intonation, I swear I was transported to a clay-brick village where I could feel the Oxaca breeze as sweat beads poured down my sand-flecked forehead. But, alas, I was still in Greenburgh. I had never truly heard Spanish spoken in all its beauty until that night. Color me amazed.”
“No, he did not tip,” Gonzalez added.
