Super Vato

Growing up I never thought of my self as incredible or anything, but I did consider myself exceptional. Let me explain…

Yes, as a kid, your imagination gets the best of you, with or without a costume. But my family was always, too keep it “pc”, lower-income or working class so I was always decked out as Super Vato no matter what I was wearing. As a matter of fact, as a kid I used to go to bed wearing the clothes designated for the next day just in case I had to wake up for an emergency rescue. No one wants to be bad-ass in chonies or in pj’s. On the news I’d hear about train accidents and freak accidents that just amazed the hell out of me. I never wanted to experience any event like that, but being the Super Vato that I was, of course I imagined how I would survive them. For example, I get on an elevator on the 100th floor (what am I doing as a kid on a random building on the 100th floor? I don’t know…) and just when everything seems to be working in smooth condition, suddenly the elevator cords snap and down we go hundreds of miles per hour! I pay attention to the floor counter …100…90….80…20…10… and just before it gets to the lobby, I do a little hop inside the elevator right before impact and avoid being smashed like a cucaracha and killed. Would it work? I think so.

Or, I’m in the forest and a bear wants a piece of me, of course I wouldn’t fight it, but my Super Vato brain cannot comprehend how a virtually obese bear can run faster than a human (which it can) and therefore outrun the bear into the city. I have several years of track experience under my belt, bring it Winnie…

Now, a simple paper cut gets Super Vato whining like a little girl. Diving for a rebound on the basketball courts has sidelined me with an injury for several weeks! Even a little mosquito bite has made this Super Vato sound like Super Maricon. Tis true, yet another sign of the end of times…