Following my Spanish lesson, I headed out into the breezy, sunny afternoon and decided to dine on the zocalo.
Zocalo outings are typically filled with vendors visiting the tables, hawking whatever they can.
And, of course , they were out in force and so were the pigeons.
And this one, my companion, who thought he might get a bite off my plate refused to leave even when I swatted at him with a napkin, tried to tip him off his chair, and threatened him with a fist to the table. I watched as he dug into the chair, as he refused to let go.
shewhodaresnothing 