Hey, this is me! I don't believe it!
Arnaldo reminded me of my father, with his aura of melancholy charm and his aloof, gallant waswy with women. I loved his growl of a voice and the happy accidents with language which occurred whenever we talked. It was like I had audio dysplasia. Instead of seeing double, I heard double, something besides what Arnaldo was actually saying. "Trouble" when he said "travel," "gender" when he said "genre," "fold" when he said "fault," or "grammatic fever" when he said "rheumatic fever." But after laughing and sorting it all out, we'd come to the ironic conclusion that it wasn't a case of miscommunication at all, but understanding.
Jessica Hagedorn, The Gangster of Love (62)
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