Georgina S. Francisco is

a Friend of Mine



Georgina S. Francisco is a friend of mine,

and she is very particular about

two things: cheese and Margaritas.


“Cheese,” she purrs, “must be strong,

sharp and sweet, like dulce.”


She leans into me for emphasis.

“¿No?” she says through a red

O of a mouth.


“And there is only one way,” she whispers,

“to make a Margarita.”


I wave her off, my eyes bulging with

excitement, and tell her about my

latest Google search where I unearthed

the most remarkable Margarita recipe that

includes a bottle of beer.


Georgina’s eyes narrow into mere slits,

and she spits out a disgusted, “Feh!”


Before I can say more, she stands and

looks down at me with disdain.


“There’s only one way to make a Margarita,”

she sneers. “And it does not include beer.”


Georgina turns on her heel leaving me

desolate with nothing more than her

perfume’s scent and her rebuke’s sting.


Georgina S. Francisco is a friend of mine,

and she is very particular about

two things: cheese and Margaritas.