Westword July 29, 2010 : Page 10
Perky Cups’ promise to return to Aurora may be falling flat. OFF LIMIT S Boob Jobs T he Perky Cupscoffee shop certainly turned heads when it bounced into Aurora late last year, with buxom, bikini-wearing baristas pouring hot joe and occasionally parading around the parking lot at 12101 East Iliff Avenue, advertising their wares. That sales tactic got the store’s owner, Jason Bernal, into trouble with both his landlord and Aurora City Councilwoman Molly Markert, who asked shoppers to boycott not only Perky Cups, but the busi-nesses around it as well. Markert dialed the drama level even higher with this note in her newsletter: “When one of the [Perky Cups] employees is raped and murdered, we will all mourn the loss.” Bernal eventually closed the business on June 17 after a dispute with his landlord, vowing to reopen; on his website, perkyc-upscoffee.com, he said he planned two new Aurorastores — one at I-225 and Iliff and the other at 15258 East Hampden Avenue — as well as a new spot in Parker, at 17743 Cot-tonwood Drive. Was it just a tease? So far, Perky Cups has not applied for a new business license in Au-rora (or closed out its old license), says city spokeswoman KathyCable. Nor has Bernal applied to open a store in Parker, according to that town. Bernal himself didn’t return phone calls or e-mails seeking comment. And the fi nal wordfrom Markert? Itwas short and sweet — just like a twelve-ounce “A-Cup” poured bya woman in a bikini. Here is the transcript of our e-mail interview: Westword: [We] understand the owner is planning to open three new locations in the Aurora area and [were] hoping to ask if you are planning to use the same boycott strategy as on the last one. Molly Markert: Thank you for your in-quiry. The business was evicted for non-payment of rent; hardly a news story. WW: Well, it certainly is a news story when a business hires women in bikinis who walk around a shopping center, and then a councilwoman organizes a boycott of that business and all the surrounding businesses. And then the owner decides to reopen not one, not two, but three new locations after being evicted from the fi rst one. Wouldn’t 10 you think your constituents would think that was a story? MM: No. Beer bandits:Paging BurtReynolds— your services are needed again. But instead of running a truckload of Colorado-made Coors from Texas to Georgia, you need to deliver a truckload of Colorado-made Fat Tire to the soon-to-open BLT Bar & Grill in New York. But you can still drive a black Trans-Am. Twenty-fi rst-century East Coasters love them some FatTire, but as with Coors in the early ’70s, the only way to get it is to drive a ¡Ask A Mexican! By Gustavo Arellano Dear Mexican: As an old gringo who calls himself a gringo (not a gabacho), I study Mexican culture and ask myself, “Where have I seen this before?” The answer invariably is: 1950s America, that’s where. Current Mexican culture in the U.S. is about fifty years behind current American culture. Back in the 1950s, Americans had large families, were overtly racist and sexist (the only jobs a woman could get weresecretary or nurse). Macho men kept their women pregnant and in the kitchen. There were lots of transient day workers because the Great Society social programs hadn’t been implemented yet. Americans were in love with their Bel Airs and Thunderbirds. Movies werehyper-macho (both A Streetcar Named Desireand On the Waterfront came out in the 1950s). Film noir was big. Television had lots of variety shows featuring circus acts and dwarfs. Soap operas started to fl ourish. Polka was big. There weremotorcycle gangs and Mafi a families. I could go on and on. The parallels are striking, ¿que no? So, I’m guessing that the future for Mexicans means a “counterculture” forming around 2010 that will drag Mexicans through all the crap Americans just went through the past fi fty years. Scary. Gringo From the Future in Tucson, Arizona Dear Gabacho: Fascinating chrono-analysis, but what you de-scribe are the pathologies that most every immigrant group in this country faced in their dumb-ethnics phase, not just the gabacho class. And you also fail to account for the millions of pochoswhose ancestors suffered such assimilatory lumps, pochoswho are now essentially well-toasted whitebreads, almost indistinguishable from their gabachoneighbors savesurnames and a bunch of illegal cousins. But I do salute you for being one of the few gabachoswho remember the 1950s as the hellhole era it was instead of viewing it through the Vaseline-smeared lens of an MGM musical like too many Know Nothings. thousand miles and load up your trunk — or a truck, as Reynolds and Jerry Reed did in 1977’s Smokey and the Bandit— and bootleg it past the authorities and/or Sheriff Buford T. Justice. (“What we’re dealing with here is a complete lack of respect for the law.”) Last week, BLT posted a notice that it would be serving Fat Tire, sparking a blog frenzy, since the beer has cult status on the East Coast. A few days later, though, the restaurant had to disappoint the masses, admitting that it had jumped the gun. In fact, Fort Collins-based New Belgium Brewery doesn’t distribute beer anywhere near New York — North Carolina and Illinois are about as close as it gets — be-cause it doesn’t yet havethe capacity to do so. “My assumption is that they’ve run some in on their own,” says New Belgium’s Bryan Simpsonof the unsanctioned delivery, warn-ing that taking beer across state lines for com-mercial purposes can land you on the wrong side of the law (and Jackie Gleason). “My guess is that they weretrying to go under the radar, and then someone wrote about it. Now it’s up to the local constabulary to deal with it, and New York is serious about this stuff.” Got scoop? Contact editorial@westword.com. DearMexican:I’ve been reading your articles for a while and have always wondered why you respond using Spanish words and terms for which I can’t fi nd a translation. For example: que no, pendejo, razacósmica, mariposa, chula, verga, gabachos, negritos, primera-mente, migra, etc. Perhaps the translation books I’m using need to be replaced by a more complete dictionary of words. If you have a recommendation, please let me know. Webster’s Wishing WeWeren’t Wimps Dear Gabacho: As I frequently menciono in this columna: pa’ educational razones, but siempre in unway that even the biggest Arpayaso can understand y thus aprender some nuevaswords. If you insist on a translation book, buy ¡Ask a Mexican!, released in paperback form byScribner in 2008 and available in your cheaper bargain bins everywhere. DearMexican: What got the panochaname first: the sweet pudding or the sweeter vagina? Pablo the Pervert Dear Wab: Neither. Panocha comes from the Vulgar Latin panucula, which refers to the ears of cereal grain such as corn, millet and wheat. Its literal Spanish defi nition is just that, and the New Mexican pudding called panocharefers to its sprouted wheat origins. This panocha also contains brown sugar, however, and panocha also became a name for this sweetener. I wish I could say that all these treats werenamed in homage of Mother Panocha, but I’m afraid that the word’ssexual connotation is just another example of Mexican men turning everything into a sexy-time opportunity. In our defense, though, other Latinos do the same: our innocent, delicious concha(the most famous of Mexican pan dulce, the one with all the sugar covering its crust) means panocha to Cubans, much to my mami’s eternal dismay. Ask the Mexican at editorial@westword.com; fi nd him at myspace.com/ ocwab and facebook.com or on Twitter. JULY29-AUGUST4, 2010 WESTWORD | BACKBEAT | CAFE | ART | THEATER | MOVIES | NIGHT+DAY | CITY LIMITS | OFF LIMITS | ¡ASK A MEXICAN! | LETTERS | CONTENTS | WORST-CASE SCENARIO | westword.com
Off Limits
The Perky Cups coffee shop certainly turned heads when it bounced into Aurora late last year, with buxom, bikini-wearing baristas pouring hot joe and occasionally parading around the parking lot at 12101 East Iliff Avenue, advertising their wares.
That sales tactic got the store’s owner, Jason Bernal, into trouble with both his landlord and Aurora City Councilwoman Molly Markert, who asked shoppers to boycott not only Perky Cups, but the businesses around it as well. Markert dialed the drama level even higher with this note in her newsletter: “When one of the [Perky Cups] employees is raped and murdered, we will all mourn the loss.”
Bernal eventually closed the business on June 17 after a dispute with his landlord, vowing to reopen; on his website, perkycupscoffee.Com, he said he planned two new Aurora stores — one at I-225 and Iliff and the other at 15258 East Hampden Avenue — as well as a new spot in Parker, at 17743 Cottonwood Drive.
Was it just a tease? So far, Perky Cups has not applied for a new business license in Aurora (or closed out its old license), says city spokeswoman Kathy Cable. Nor has Bernal applied to open a store in Parker, according to that town.
Bernal himself didn’t return phone calls or e-mails seeking comment.
And the final word from Markert? It was short and sweet — just like a twelve-ounce “A-Cup” poured by a woman in a bikini. Here is the transcript of our e-mail interview:
Westword: [We] understand the owner is planning to open three new locations in the Aurora area and [were] hoping to ask if you are planning to use the same boycott strategy as on the last one.
Molly Markert: Thank you for your inquiry.
The business was evicted for nonpayment of rent; hardly a news story.
WW: Well, it certainly is a news story when a business hires women in bikinis who walk around a shopping center, and then a councilwoman organizes a boycott of that business and all the surrounding businesses.
And then the owner decides to reopen not one, not two, but three new locations after being evicted from the first one. Wouldn’t you think your constituents would think that was a story?
MM: No.
Beer bandits: Paging Burt Reynolds — your services are needed again. But instead of running a truckload of Colorado-made Coors from Texas to Georgia, you need to deliver a truckload of Colorado-made Fat Tire to the soon-to-open BLT Bar & Grill in New York.
But you can still drive a black Trans-Am.
Twenty-first-century East Coasters love them some Fat Tire, but as with Coors in the early ’70s, the only way to get it is to drive a thousand miles and load up your trunk — or a truck, as Reynolds and Jerry Reed did in 1977’s Smokey and the Bandit — and bootleg it past the authorities and/or Sheriff Buford T. Justice. (“What we’re dealing with here is a complete lack of respect for the law.”)
Last week, BLT posted a notice that it would be serving Fat Tire, sparking a blog frenzy, since the beer has cult status on the East Coast. A few days later, though, the restaurant had to disappoint the masses, admitting that it had jumped the gun. In fact, Fort Collins-based New Belgium Brewery doesn’t distribute beer anywhere near New York — North Carolina and Illinois are about as close as it gets — because it doesn’t yet have the capacity to do so.
“My assumption is that they’ve run some in on their own,” says New Belgium’s Bryan Simpson of the unsanctioned delivery, warning that taking beer across state lines for commercial purposes can land you on the wrong side of the law (and Jackie Gleason). “My guess is that they were trying to go under the radar, and then someone wrote about it. Now it’s up to the local constabulary to deal with it, and New York is serious about this stuff.”
¡Ask A Mexican!
Gustavo Arellano
Dear Mexican: As an old gringo who calls himself a gringo (not a gabacho), I study Mexican culture and ask myself, “Where have I seen this before?” The answer invariably is: 1950s America, that’s where. Current Mexican culture in the U.S. is about fifty years behind current American culture. Back in the 1950s, Americans had large families, were overtly racist and sexist (the only jobs a woman could get were secretary or nurse). Macho men kept their women pregnant and in the kitchen. There were lots of transient day workers because the Great Society social programs hadn’t been implemented yet. Americans were in love with their Bel Airs and Thunderbirds. Movies were hyper-macho (both A Streetcar Named Desire and On the Waterfront came out in the 1950s). Film noir was big. Television had lots of variety shows featuring circus acts and dwarfs.
Soap operas started to flourish. Polka was big. There were motorcycle gangs and Mafia families. I could go on and on. The parallels are striking, ¿que no? So, I’m guessing that the future for Mexicans means a “counterculture” forming around 2010 that will drag Mexicans through all the crap Americans just went through the past fifty years. Scary.
Gringo From the Future in Tucson, Arizona Dear Gabacho: Fascinating chrono-analysis, but what you describe are the pathologies that most every immigrant group in this country faced in their dumb-ethnics phase, not just the gabacho class. And you also fail to account for the millions of pochos whose ancestors suffered such assimilatory lumps, pochos who are now essentially well-toasted whitebreads, almost indistinguishable from their gabacho neighbors save surnames and a bunch of illegal cousins. But I do salute you for being one of the few gabachos who remember the 1950s as the hellhole era it was instead of viewing it through the Vaseline-smeared lens of an MGM musical like too many Know Nothings.
Dear Mexican: I’ve been reading your articles for a while and have always wondered why you respond using Spanish words and terms for which I can’t find a translation. For example: que no, pendejo, raza cósmica, mariposa, chula, verga, gabachos, negritos, primeramente, migra, etc. Perhaps the translation books I’m using need to be replaced by a more complete dictionary of words. If you have a recommendation, please let me know.
Webster’s Wishing We Weren’t Wimps Dear Gabacho: As I frequently menciono in this columna: pa’ educational razones, but siempre in un way that even the biggest Arpayaso can understand y thus aprender some nuevas words. If you insist on a translation book, buy ¡Ask a Mexican!, released in paperback form by Scribner in 2008 and available in your cheaper bargain bins everywhere.
Dear Mexican: What got the panocha name first: the sweet pudding or the sweeter vagina?
Pablo the Pervert Dear Wab: Neither. Panocha comes from the Vulgar Latin panucula, which refers to the ears of cereal grain such as corn, millet and wheat.
Its literal Spanish definition is just that, and the New Mexican pudding called panocha refers to its sprouted wheat origins. This panocha also contains brown sugar, however, and panocha also became a name for this sweetener. I wish I could say that all these treats were named in homage of Mother Panocha, but I’m afraid that the word’s sexual connotation is just another example of Mexican men turning everything into a sexy-time opportunity.
In our defense, though, other Latinos do the same: our innocent, delicious concha (the most famous of Mexican pan dulce, the one with all the sugar covering its crust) means panocha to Cubans, much to my mami’s eternal dismay.
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