Huevos a la Mexicana

Huevos a la Mexicana

So, what are we having for breakfast?

Let’s check the inventory. A rigorous, deeply depressing inspection of the kitchen battlefield: two lonely eggs, some sorrowful coffee grounds that have given their all three times already, two crusty slices of bread hardened like ancient parchment, and a jar of blackberry jam sporting a suspicious green mustache of mold around the rim. Outside, the morning mist clings to the windowpanes like a stubborn ghost, reminding us just how unfriendly the dawn can be.

That’s it. And we’re supposed to draw sustained, vibrant life from that?

Well, thanks to a certain someone who spent our grocery money on vintage embroidery thread instead of provisions, the fridge is a sacred temple of emptiness. So take it or leave it, Kika!

Whoa, touchy! No wonder not even stray flies come near our kitchen. Fine, I’ll eat whatever you want. But I reserve the right to mentally chew on something else while I swallow this cardboard.

By the way... have you ever thought about freezing our brains?

No, Kika, why on earth would I?

Just imagine! A futuristic utopia where we neatly upload our messy, disorganized consciousness into sleek, maintenance-free android bodies. Do you know how wonderfully simple life would be?

I’d never imagined that, Kika. That’s what I have you for, your daily dose of sci-fi escapism before the coffee even hits.

Yeah, yeah… just listen to the logistics! If we had indestructible android bodies, we wouldn't have to cook. We wouldn't have to face the harrowing gauntlet of the supermarket. And you know better than anyone how much I loathe the supermarket! Especially on a packed Sunday when every family in a ten-mile radius decides to test my fragile nervous system. It’s not even a clinical phobia, it’s just... well, you know how claustrophobic my soul gets when fluorescent lights hum overhead and toddlers scream in synchronized harmony next to the cereal aisle.

I know, Kika! You don't need to remind me; last time we went to buy a single onion, we nearly barfed from the sheer sensory overload and had to sit on the curb outside the sliding doors breathing into a brown paper bag like a pair of Victorian invalids.

Precisely! Plus, think of all the money we’d save on toilet paper, organic face creams, and ibuprofen! And think of the time! We could finally finish that towering stack of ambitious books collecting dust by the bed, the ones we start every January with grand delusions of intellectual grandeur. We could meditate for hours in absolute stillness instead of fighting insomnia all night long. And best of all? We wouldn’t get goosebumps in the bathroom every time we strip down to face the tundra of this goddamn freezing cold house!

Okay, I’ll give you that last one. A heated titanium chassis does sound tempting when the bathroom tiles double as an Arctic glacier. But even so, your arguments are entirely banal, Kika.

Trivial? Pfft! I forgot I was talking to Mrs. Know-It-All.

Miss Gina, please, you know it pisses me off being called Mrs. De todas maneras, te puedo compartir miles de razones del porqué es mil veces mejor ser un desastre biológico que un trozo de microchips...

Wait. Why are you thinking in Spanish?

Am I?

Yeah, dummy!

Sorry, crossed wires between the hemispheres. But seriously, getting back to the solid ground of reality, I love being human. Can you imagine how linear, sterile, and gray life would be if we were machines? We wouldn't smell the damp, sweet earth after a sudden mountain rain breaks the dust. We wouldn't know the subtle, exquisite difference between the sharp, citrusy bite of cilantro and the deep, green whisper of flat-leaf parsley. We’d be mass-produced with a set range of factory-default responses, pre-programmed to smile at inappropriate corporate memos and never question why we exist. We wouldn't even be having this absurd kitchen debate!

Oh god, you're right. That would be a tragedy. We wouldn't smell the metallic tang of rusty iron when we accidentally slice a finger chopping an onion with a dull knife because we're too lazy to sharpen it. Our adventures would be completely flavorless. Our hearts wouldn't hammer a wild, terrified mile a minute when we’re sprinting down the gravel shoulder, desperately trying to hitchhike a stranger's rusty pickup truck just to reach one of those secret, unknown beaches we love, where the wind tastes like salt and sun-baked hair.

Exactly, Kika! We’d probably be completely incapable of shedding a single, ugly, mascara-ruining tear while listening to Radiohead late at night, or tasting the absolute saltiness of a lover’s skin while we make love in the dark.

Oh no! What would life be like without feeling music and love? You may be right! But what about the major global issues that annoy human beings? As androids, we could eradicate all these petty problems from planet Earth, like the guy in the adjacent lane who is currently mining his nasal cavities in broad daylight, fully convinced that tinted car windows make him invisible to humanity. 

Come on, Kika! That is hardly an existential global crisis! But it definitely would be a relief not to worry about nasal mucus and basic bodily maintenance. It’s true that having a metal skeleton instead of muscles would make us more resilient to illnesses, foul weather, and heavy labor. However, can you imagine a world where nobody is capable of feeling their physical envelope, just doing, doing, doing like mindless automatons? would we even remember how to slow down our minds and take a breath if we didn't have physical pain forcing us to stop?

But honestly, what I would miss most, what I wouldn't trade for a galaxy of stainless-steel stars, is dreaming. Letting our spirit drift completely free from the heavy weight of the flesh, wandering through impossible landscapes, and then... waking up.

Lying half-awake for fifteen glorious, unproductive minutes, feeling the heavy, comforting warmth of the duvet over our shoulders. Watching the infinite, lazy, geometric shapes that tree shadows make as they dance across the whitewashed ceiling in the morning light. Doing absolutely nothing. Just existing in the quiet liminal space between sleep and consciousness, until we finally decide to drag ourselves up, draw in the rich, toasted aroma of morning coffee, and cook... huevos a la mexicana.

...You know what? You win. I officially revoke my application for android status. Just imagining an eternity without coffee gives me the chills.

See? Our messy, complicated, bio-organic bodies definitely have their perks.

Wait... do you smell something burning?

Shit! The eggs!

Damn it, Kika, you always distract me!

And as always, I'm the one to blame for everything that goes wrong in this kitchen.

Oh, shut up. I should have known better how your futuristic ramblings end by now, hurry up, we need a spatula.