By Juan Montoya
In this age of selfies, where some people post the food they eat, the place they're at, and even sometimes the new boyfriend or girlfriend, no other City of Brownsville commissioner has more of a footprint that our own Jessica Tereau-Kakifa.
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Those who keep up with her foibles on the Internet know what she eats, what she wears, what she drives, and even sometimes what new ring her old man just bought her at Portillo's Jewelry.
But the stuff she was posting recently has to take the cake, if not the taco.
As she tells it, our precocious
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Miss Tetreau apparently got a yen for tacos in the wee hours of the morning and sent hubby Arturo out into the wild to bring her back some of those overstuffed delicacies from an all-night, local-known taqueria.
As she tells it, before dawn, the tacos struck back with a vengeance.
Tetreau gave a blow by blow account and promptly posted it on Facebook the next day.
She diagnosed herself with food poisoning and guessed that she was dying, making like a frog and croaking.
Soon sympathetic friends chirped in to ask her how she felt soon after noon.
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"Tacos from where? Mr. Taco," asked Cheli Treviño.
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Tetreau coyly demurred of accusing the suspect taqueria and posted only a crying face symbol. She told them she was "fainting" already.
Jessyka Pylar Cruze (sic) asked her
if the venomous taquitos were from "El último taco," a popular taqueria over by the frontage road and Price Road.
"Not there," said Tetreau, leaving the possibility open that her discretion at not naming the offender might slur the taqueria.
About eight hours later, she was asked how she was by Bertha Bejarano and Tetreau gamely responded that she was "still vomiting blood."
Now, mere mortals unlike Tetreau would probably have rushed to the hospital to have their stomach pumped when they couldn't stop vomiting or if they were vomiting blood 15 hours later..
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But if we are to believe her Tetreau apparently braved the possibility of death or something nasty and steeled herself with the saying that what won't kill her would make her stronger.
Someone should tell the commissioner that this time perhaps the postings were a bit much and that normal people don't suffer in agony for hours vomiting blood in the bowl without seeking medical assistance. But that perhaps would take the fun our of posting on Facebook as she bravely faced the offending bacteria or parasite that invaded her gastric system.
That reminded us of a cartoon showing someone so intent on posting and remaining "relevant" in this new Social Age that she didn't realize she was being eaten by a shark. (See graphic at left.)
That led to someone else remembering the extremes to which we have become accustomed to communicating in this Brave New Age remembered another one.
In it a patient is asking a shrink if he should tell him about himself.
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"just show me your Facebook ads," the shrink responds.
If it was your average citizen in Brownsville, one could understand him or her not slurring a local business as Tetreau did Mr. Taco by omission. But she is, after all, a city commissioner and her constituents may shun the business based on her self-diagnosis.
Perhaps it was something in the water or mold in her home or bath that caused the reaction. Because she doesn't tell us what the outcome was (no, she didn't die, you cynics), we'll never know what the cause of her dolor de panza might have been. Or perhaps it was just the quantity of the delightful delicacies and she, as our friends in the barrio say, "se busguio."
In this age of selfies, where some people post the food they eat, the place they're at, and even sometimes the new boyfriend or girlfriend, no other City of Brownsville commissioner has more of a footprint that our own Jessica Tereau-Kakifa.
But the stuff she was posting recently has to take the cake, if not the taco.
As she tells it, our precocious
As she tells it, before dawn, the tacos struck back with a vengeance.
Tetreau gave a blow by blow account and promptly posted it on Facebook the next day.
She diagnosed herself with food poisoning and guessed that she was dying, making like a frog and croaking.
Soon sympathetic friends chirped in to ask her how she felt soon after noon.
"Tacos from where? Mr. Taco," asked Cheli Treviño.
Tetreau coyly demurred of accusing the suspect taqueria and posted only a crying face symbol. She told them she was "fainting" already.Jessyka Pylar Cruze (sic) asked her
if the venomous taquitos were from "El último taco," a popular taqueria over by the frontage road and Price Road.
"Not there," said Tetreau, leaving the possibility open that her discretion at not naming the offender might slur the taqueria.
About eight hours later, she was asked how she was by Bertha Bejarano and Tetreau gamely responded that she was "still vomiting blood."
Now, mere mortals unlike Tetreau would probably have rushed to the hospital to have their stomach pumped when they couldn't stop vomiting or if they were vomiting blood 15 hours later..
But if we are to believe her Tetreau apparently braved the possibility of death or something nasty and steeled herself with the saying that what won't kill her would make her stronger.Someone should tell the commissioner that this time perhaps the postings were a bit much and that normal people don't suffer in agony for hours vomiting blood in the bowl without seeking medical assistance. But that perhaps would take the fun our of posting on Facebook as she bravely faced the offending bacteria or parasite that invaded her gastric system.
That reminded us of a cartoon showing someone so intent on posting and remaining "relevant" in this new Social Age that she didn't realize she was being eaten by a shark. (See graphic at left.)
That led to someone else remembering the extremes to which we have become accustomed to communicating in this Brave New Age remembered another one.
In it a patient is asking a shrink if he should tell him about himself.
"just show me your Facebook ads," the shrink responds.If it was your average citizen in Brownsville, one could understand him or her not slurring a local business as Tetreau did Mr. Taco by omission. But she is, after all, a city commissioner and her constituents may shun the business based on her self-diagnosis.
Perhaps it was something in the water or mold in her home or bath that caused the reaction. Because she doesn't tell us what the outcome was (no, she didn't die, you cynics), we'll never know what the cause of her dolor de panza might have been. Or perhaps it was just the quantity of the delightful delicacies and she, as our friends in the barrio say, "se busguio."