Spanish Exec, Intern and High Schoolers Clash on Mexico City Metro

Carnitas at 8 AM and a Metro Ride Ending in a Fight

A Spanish commissioner stationed in Mexico City starts his day with carnitas at eight in the morning, drags his newly graduated intern through the metro during rush hour, and ends up witnessing two high school students getting into a fight over him inside a train car. The account, dated 2009, describes a clash of worlds: that of the expatriate executive who navigates Mexico City like a fish in water, and that of the young woman who asks if they wouldn't be better off going to Vips.

The author of the text, who presents himself as a commissioner for a Spanish entity, details his routine: carnitas made from solid meat with tongue and ear with snout, an apple Sidral soda, taking the metro at Insurgentes towards San Lázaro, transferring towards Ciudad Azteca, and visiting a Spanish businessman with several shoe stores who signs the papers "because I'm too lazy to go downtown." The day then includes a alucinación by microbus from Plaza Aragón to Nesa, a race between drivers to pick up passengers, and a stop at a fruit stand where he orders jicama with piquín chili.

The Breakfast That Shocked a Recent Graduate

The opening scene sets the tone for the entire story. The narrator asks his companion if she has had breakfast; she nods, he says he hasn't, and invites her to get off. A police officer at the entrance tells them where to find "damn good" carnitas, and the narrator orders two plates: one of solid meat with tongue and another of ear with snout. The intern rejects the taco with a grimace of displeasure and asks if she wouldn't prefer Vips.

The narrator's response—"No, I don't prefer Vips"—condenses the cultural conflict running through the text. The young woman, a business school graduate, represents the Mexico that aspires to international franchises and air-conditioned spaces. The narrator embodies the expatriate who has adopted local customs with more enthusiasm than many locals. Between them lies a distance that is not just gastronomic.

Rush Hour Metro: Instructions the Intern Ignored

The metro journey takes up much of the narrative. The narrator suggests the intern board the women-only cars and wait for him on the platform at San Lázaro. She refuses and prefers to go with him, despite the warning that the cars would be "packed tight." The narrator then instructs her to hold onto his belt and not let go "under any circumstances."

The description of boarding is meticulous: the narrator charges like a boar, pushes other passengers aside until reaching the opposite doors, stands with his back against them, places his briefcase covering his abdomen, grips the ventilation grilles with his left hand, and pulls the intern toward him. "I nearly dislocated her shoulder," he adds. The episode illustrates a daily reality of public transport in the Mexican capital, presented without drama.

From Insurgentes to Ecatepec: A Client Who Signs to Avoid Downtown

The goal of the alucinación was to visit a prospect in Ecatepec, a Spanish businessman with several shoe stores. The narrator gets him to sign the papers that same morning with an argument that sums up the client's logic: "I'm too lazy to go downtown." The anecdote serves to illustrate a widespread commercial practice: the salesperson traveling to the client's location as a competitive advantage over face-to-face management in central offices.

The narrator celebrates the deal with a plan he considers a delicacy: taking the microbus from Plaza Aragón to Nesa, a journey he describes as "extremely fascinating." The intern protests—"Are we really taking a pesero?"—and the narrator ignores the objection. During the ride, they enjoy a race between drivers trying to arrive first and grab passengers, although the narrator notes it was "quite monotonous" because there were no collisions and no one pulled out a weapon.

The Fruit Stand and the Missing Jicama

The stop at the fruit vendor near the metro exit introduces another episode of cultural contrast. The narrator orders a jicama with plenty of piquín chili, and the seller politely replies that he doesn't have any left: "I owe you one." The narrator then orders cucumber and offers it to the intern, whose reaction the text describes in detail: she opens her mouth, covers it with her hands, blushes deeply, and lowers her head.

The narrator insists with mango, papaya, watermelon, and melon. The intern keeps her head down. The narrator interprets this reaction as lack of appetite and eats the cup of fruit alone while walking slowly toward the metro entrance. The seemingly trivial scene reinforces the portrait of a young woman who doesn't know how to react to a boss behaving with informality that doesn't fit her idea of what a professional relationship should be.

The Car, the High School Girls, and the Fight the Narrator Doesn't Detail

The story pauses when the narrator and the intern board a lightly occupied car, containing only some high school students, an elderly couple carrying bags, and other passengers. In subsequent messages, the narrator completes the story: according to his version, the high school students attacked the intern, took her belt, tore her skirt and underwear, and left her naked from the waist down.

The narrator interprets the episode as a manifestation of female territoriality: the young women reacted against the presence of another woman next to the man accompanying them, even though he wasn't their partner. This reading generates a debate about whether the aggression was a case of rivalry among women or an incident of gratuitous violence. The narrator argues that women can reach levels of cruelty and sadism that men do not achieve "with the coldness and premeditation" they employ.

The Resulting Debate: Weapons, Permits, and a Comparison with Spain

The conversation shifts to weapons. The narrator explains that in Mexico he always carries a gun—first a Beretta 92FS in 9mm, then a Px4 Storm in .40—and that he has a permit, possession license, and carry authorization. He adds that the guns were purchased from Sedena (Mexican Secretariat of National Defense), are registered, and outside Spain. He criticizes Glock pistols and defends Berettas against those who consider them inferior.

The account includes details on Mexican gun regulations: according to the narrator, there is only one legal armory in the entire country, the Sedena facility in Naucalpan, which sells exclusively in person and does not market semi-automatic long guns, only hunting and repeating rifles. The narrator claims these restrictions are "pure bullshit to fool people" because all types of weapons are found in the informal market. The comparison with Spain, where the narrator resides, highlights the regulatory differences between both countries.

With these elements, the story builds a portrait of the life of a Spanish expatriate in Mexico City, combining folk chronicle with sociological observation. The lingering question is whether the intern ever understood why her boss preferred street-corner carnitas over an air-conditioned Vips.