Cristela Alonzo: Middle Classy (2022) | Full transcript
All right. Are you ready to get this thing going? Cristela, do you know how I met Senator Robert Kennedy?
No.
Oh, well, we had registered 140,000 voters in California.
No way. How’s everybody doing? I found out he was gonna be at the Coronado Hotel in San Diego. And so I went to the Coronado Hotel… My name is Joaquin Castro. That was the first time that I ever met Robert Kennedy. That’s how you met? My day job is in Congress. And then, there’s another story about… Uh, Dolores, I– I’m running late. So I’m gonna go. But I’ll be right back.
I just…
Okay, can…
I want you to hear this other story.
I wanna hear it. I wanted to do something more respectable with my life. So here I am. Opening up for Cristela. I love your stories. I know. Like, “Whoa. History. Wow, wow.” It’s like sí se pudo, right?
Like, sí se puede.
Yeah, right. Like, hold that thought. I’ll be right back. You…
Yeah, I’m gonna be waiting for you.
Yeah, of course! All right! All right! Give a huge welcome to my badass friend from the Rio Grande Valley of Texas,
Cristela Alonzo! Yes! Oh! Oh! Look at us! Ah! We made it! This time last year, we were all grounded by God. And look at us. Now we’re out here saying, “Look at us! We’re still alive.” It’s amazing. Hey, man, I didn’t know if we were gonna make it or not. We started out with COVID-19, now we’re up to COVID-24. I swear to God, COVID has become like Star Wars. You know, every couple months, there’s a new one out. Like, “Oh, man! Omicron’s out? I haven’t finished seeing The Mandalorian yet.” Like, what? It didn’t have to be like this, either. It didn’t have to be like this. It didn’t have to be so hard. I grew up watching scary movies. Now, I love zombie movies, right? And there’s always that scene, yeah, where you find out, “Oh my God, they’re zombies.” And it’s never just one zombie. It’s, like, 30 zombies. And I would watch that scene in every movie and think, “That’s unrealistic.” “How would they let it get so bad?” Right? ‘Cause if I ever see one zombie, I’m killing the zombie. But to get to 30? How do we do that? Then I started thinking, “Ah, you know why?” It’s because we never showed that scene in the movie where the assholes are walking around, like, “It’s my right to get bit by a zombie.” Ooh. “It’s my right as an American to get bit by a zombie.”
You’re not supposed to pick how you die, stupid. What is that? All of these past couple of years, it’s just been so much. I had to spend the lockdown in LA, and I hated it. ‘Cause I came from a very close family. Like, this is the first time I had to do something without my family. You know? And it was hard. My family, we’re from South Texas, you know? We’re from Mexico.
And… um. That’s South Texas. It’s South Texas. It’s kinda South Texas. It’s like South Texas. I grew up in a mixed-status family. If you don’t know what that is, that means half of us were documented, half of us were undocumented, and we’re not telling you which one’s which. Guess what? We all look alike! We didn’t have a lot of money growing up. You know? We had to share a bathroom and a birth certificate. It sucked. My brother Cristela hated it. It’s okay. It’s okay. Spanish is my first language. I learned English later on in life. I was actually an ESL kid growing up. And, um… I had to learn English… ¿Ustedes también? I had to learn English by watching TV shows like The Price Is Right. You know? And, white people, you messed with me. “Plinko” is not a real word. Screw you. I trusted you. I used to learn your words, and I’d incorporate it in everyday life. “I can’t go today. I feel plinko.” Turns out it wasn’t a real word. I love that word. I wanna name my kids Plinko. ‘Cause that sounds Mexican. Plinko, ven pa ca. I thought I could name my kids Plinko because I grew up in the hood. And sometimes in the hood, we’ll name our kids fucked-up shit. Sometimes we’ll name our kids things we want out of life. You know? Like, “Yo, that’s my daughter, Mercedes. What’s up? How you doing?” “That’s my son, Paid Water Bill. How you doing? Come say hi. Come say hi.” “Where’s Cable? Anyone seen Cable?”
So that’s how I learned to speak English. I would sit in front of the TV and I would just watch the shows and just repeat everything I heard, you know? Like, the voices, the accents. So, in my family, I’m the only one that doesn’t have a super thick Mexican accent. You know? My brother, my oldest brother, he was born and raised in Mexico. And he’s got that stereotypical accent, you know? Like… Like if a taco could talk. Like, if Edward James Olmos met him, he would wanna teach him “calculus.” You know? Like… Right? “You need ganas.” So it was always weird, because we grew up together but it always sounded like we weren’t related, right? ‘Cause my brother’s like, “Hey, sister.” “Nah, pues, you wanna go get something to eat or what?” I’m like, “Well, we could do that.” “Or would you like to see what’s behind door number three? Come on down!”
You know? Eh, when you think about it, by the way, Price Is Right is not a game show for poor people. ‘Cause we don’t know the price of any brand-name stuff at all. We buy generic. I grew up on the Dollar Store. That’s me on The Price Is Right. “How much is that orange juice?” “Ninety-nine cents.” “How much is that mac and cheese?” “Oh, no, too much. Put it back.” Now, as an adult, though, I speak three languages. I speak Spanish, English, and Caucasian. No, Caucasian is like English, but I have to use fancy words I don’t normally use, like “organic” and “deductible.” Let me give you an example. Like, in my everyday life, when my friends mess up, I’m like, “Bitch, you fucked up.” But in Caucasian, I’m like, “Ma’am, that is unacceptable.” See? A little right there? A little… “I will fuck you up!” “Let me speak to the manager.”
I grew up in a border town right next to Mexico in South Texas. And I always think it’s interesting, one thing we never talk about a lot is how so many of us grew up in bubbles. You know what I mean? If you’re a small town, even in a big city, if your neighborhood doesn’t have a lot of diversity, you don’t know better. Right? ‘Cause you’re a kid. That’s not our fault. I always say, though, when you become an adult and you go out into the world, and you start meeting people you didn’t know about or like, you weren’t familiar with, the cultures, it’s your job to learn about them and evolve. That’s what we have to do, right? But it’s hard. It’s hard at first. You know? In my border town, we had no diversity. Meaning, like, we were all Mexican. Like, everybody in my neighborhood was Mexican. We used to call each other “Mexican.” Like, “What’s up, Mexican?” “How you doing, Mexican?” “Mexican!” Like, you know? Then I went to college in St. Louis, Missouri. Someone warn a bitch. I wasn’t ready for what I was gonna meet. Like, you know, just different kinds of people. Like, again, we were all Mexican, right? Even when I saw people on TV, it didn’t seem real, ’cause TV felt so far away from where I grew up, right? So, I was in St. Louis, first day of college, this guy comes up to me, ends up being my best friend, right? He’s like, “Hey, what’s up? I’m Byron.” And immediately, I’m like, “Ah, Mexican!” “You’re the darkest Mexican I’ve ever met!” And he was like, “I’m Black.” I was like, “Oh. Oh.”
I wasn’t familiar. Same thing with white people. I didn’t realize white people came in such different shades. There’s like white and white. Like, there’s white, and I’m like, “Are you haunting me?” “Do you go here, or do you have a message from my dead mother?” But I didn’t know I was gonna meet other people that grew up in bubbles, too. That threw me off. Right? My freshman year, my roommate, she was from Tennessee. She hadn’t met a Latina before. Oh. Mmm. No one in her family had. Her mom was with her to drop her off, right? Her mom, uh, wasn’t sure if I spoke English. We had been talking all day. So I don’t know what she thought, like maybe I was just gonna forget, run out of English, halfway through the day, you know? Like, “Hey, how are you?” “Oh, I’m doing pretty good.” “Are you sure?” “No, yeah, no, no. No. Trial expired. Upgrade? No. Out of order.” “No.”
So my roommate’s mom decides she’s going to invite me out to dinner with them. But she’s going to act out all the words. To make sure I understood. So she was making it up as she went along, right? So she was like, “Hi. So… I was wondering if you… wanted to go with us to eat Italian.” Like, why the fuck is this Italian? “Do you know what Italian is?” Like, “Dude, I play Super Mario Brothers. Yeah, I know… Yes. I know what Italians are. I know the national anthem. That ‘doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo!'” “The flag is right there. Yeah. Salute. All Italians are plumbers. Let’s go!” So I said yes ’cause I had never eaten Italian. My mom was a Mexican cook at a Mexican restaurant. We only ate Mexican food growing up. Like, I had no idea, but I wanted to see what this Italian food was. So I said, “Yes.” And my roommate’s mom took us to this dope place called “Olive-a Garden.” If you guys didn’t laugh, it’s because you don’t speak Italian. And that’s okay. I don’t judge you, but get some culture. So we were at “Olive-a Garden.” And we’re eating the never-ending breadsticks and salads, you know? Like they do in Italy. Right? You know how the salads come with “peppercinis”? They kinda look like jalapeños, but like, not at all? It’s kinda like when you see a white guy with dreads and you’re like, “Not at all.” Right? Right? Yeah? Yeah. So my roommate’s mom sees the first “peppercini” and, like, loses it. ‘Cause she thinks it’s a moment to bond with me. I’m not kidding. Like, this woman wants to give it to me as a gift. She looks at it and she’s like… Grabs a fork, stabs one, looks at me, and says… “I know who wants this.” She was so excited. Like, I didn’t know how she wanted me to react. You know? Like… “Thank you, lady!” “Olive Garden para siempre!”
I was 18 years old. It was the first day outside of Texas for me. No one had ever talked to me like that. Like, I didn’t know what to think, I didn’t know how to react. Like, part of me was so mad, I wanted to be like, “Hey, you racist bitch!” Right? But I wanted it. “Hey, you racist, but accurate, bitch! Bring it here!” I told my friend that story recently. He’s like, “Why are you mad? That happened, like, two decades ago.” And I was like, “‘Cause I just realized it was fucked up now.” Right? Sometimes you look back at your life and the shit that was cool, you’re like, “That was fucked up.” But we didn’t know it was messed up, because back then it was okay. It was acceptable. But see, that’s the thing. We have to learn that, throughout time, there’s certain things you can’t do anymore. It’s not okay. Like when people are like, “I can’t say that word anymore?”
Guess what? You never should’ve. Guess what? Not supposed to. It’s just that now, we have access to tell you, like, “Hey! Don’t.” Honestly, like, for me, when I look back, I wanted everybody to like me. I would do things I didn’t wanna do because I wanted to be cool. And if they didn’t like me, I always thought it was my fault. “What did I do wrong? How do I fix it?” Then in my thirties, I started thinking, “I don’t think I like you people.” “You guys might be the problem.” Now, in my forties, I’m like, “Fuck everybody! I got plants to water.”
And that’s it. Love it. Love it. I love it. I love getting older. The older I get, the less I care. I just had a birthday. I turned 43. Amazing. I love it. You know what I like about it? At 43, I’m not old, but I’m not young. Right in the middle. I kinda feel like I’m an iPhone 6. Yeah. I know I’m not the newest phone out there, but guess what, I’m affordable and I get the job done. Like, that’s me. Dating me is like dating an iPhone 6. Like, yes, the younger women have a longer battery life. On Saturday nights, they’re like, 30 in the morning, “Fuck it! Let’s do it! Wooh!” “Forty-seven percent!” No. Me, I’m an iPhone 6. 30, I’m like, “One percent. Shutting down. Leave me by the wall.”
Seriously. I just got over COVID, you know? Sounds like we’re breaking up. “I got over COVID.” It was weird. I still can’t smell and taste a lot of stuff. It was wild. You know? It knocked me out. Now, here’s the thing. I tested positive for COVID on my birthday. I know. That’s a bad way to celebrate your birthday, right? Like, “Happy birthday,” right? It was tough. Now, let me tell you, my birthday’s on January 6. So… I was sick. Everybody told me, like, “Take care of yourself. Rest, rest, rest.” Blah, blah. And I’m like, “Yes.” So, finally, I was like, “Okay. I’ve got COVID. I’m gonna take it easy.” I get a phone call. From my apartment manager. And he’s like, “Hey, Cristela.” “LAPD’s here, and they wanna talk to you.” And I was like, “Oh, shit. Is that what they do to people with COVID? Like… Oh, my God.” Like, it would be a brown woman, right? Like… So they were like, “No, you know, there’s a guy that’s been stealing packages around the neighborhood, and we found a package with your name on it. And they didn’t open it. So we need you to open the box so that you can tell the cops how much everything is. Because after a certain amount, it becomes a felony. So we need to know if this guy’s gonna be, like, charged with a felony. Can you come down?” And I’m like, “Yeah!” I hang up, and I’m like, “Nah, bitch, you got COVID.” Right?
So I call up my apartment manager and I tell him, and he’s like, “Okay, well, how about this? What if the LAPD comes up to you? They’ll be wearing masks. They’ll stand at the end of the hallway. They’ll drop off the box. You can open it and just yell how much… everything is to the LAPD.” Right? I’m like, “Yeah, that sounds good. Let’s do this.” Right? So, LAPD comes to my place. They drop the– they drop the box. They’re at the end of the hallway. They’re wearing masks and stuff. My apartment manager’s there. And I realize I can’t open the box with my hands, right? Now, you know how when you need scissors, you can’t find scissors? You’re like… when you don’t need them, “Oh, scissors everywhere,” right? You know what I mean? So, I needed to open the box. I couldn’t find anything, so I went to the kitchen and I got a knife. Yes. So now, I’m like, “I brought a knife!” My next-door neighbor opens, and she’s like, “Oh, shit.” I’m like, “You go inside.”
Like, you know what I mean? Like… So I open the box, and I see it’s a black box, and it has, like, a Netflix ribbon on it. Right? And the cop, immediately, he’s like, “Is that Netflix?” “I got Netflix. They don’t give me shit.” “Why Netflix giving you stuff?” And I was like, “Oh, I’m a comic. I’m doing a special for them. I heard they were gonna give me a birthday gift. So I think this is the gift.” And he’s like, “What is it?” I was like, “I don’t know. Let me check!” So I open the box, and it’s a blanket. Like a really nice blanket, right? And I’m like, “It’s a blanket!” And the cop’s like, “A blanket? Netflix is a billion-dollar company. They gave you a blanket? Damn!” Right? And I instantly tell him, like, “Well, we’re not dating. I’m not fucking Netflix!” He’s like, “How much is that blanket?” I’m like, “I don’t know. It’s a gift!” He’s like, “Look for the brand!” I’m like, “Okay.” And I look for the brand. And I give him the brand. And he’s like, “Hold up. I’m gonna google it.” And he googles it. And he’s like, “The blanket’s $179!” And I was like, “I didn’t need to know that. It’s a birthday gift.” And he was like, “Is there anything else? There better be something else.” And I’m like, “I don’t know. Let me look!” So I go inside the box and there’s a candle. And I’m like, “Oh, it’s a candle!” And he’s like, “Well, how much are candles?” I’m like, “Uh, they vary, from, like, $5 to, like, $95. It just depends. They’re really nice.” He’s like, “Well, what’s the brand?” I’m like, “Hold on, let me look!” So I give him the brand, and he googles it. He’s like, “It’s $90. What? Ninety dollars? That’s more than half a blanket!” And he’s, like, telling his partner, “All right. So it’s $179 and it’s $90. Let’s add it up.” Blah, blah, blah. And he’s like… “Oooh… We got a felony. We got a felony.”
He’s all excited. Like I’m in the middle of a really fucked-up game show, right? Like, “Is It a Felony?” “Yes, it is.” So… I’m like, “What now?” He’s like, “Okay, now I need your info.” “What’s your name?” I’m like, “Cristela Alonzo.” He’s like, “What’s your birthday?” I was like, “January 6!” And he’s like… “That’s today! Wait, you got COVID on your birthday?” “Yeah.” Then he’s like, “Hold up. January 6? Like last year? When they took over the Capitol?” I was like, “Yeah, that’s my birthday.” He’s like, “Girl! Your birthdays suck! Take care!”
I love getting older, for the most part. You know what throws me off, though? Your body breaks down now. Your body isn’t what it used to, man. Ooh. I hurt my wrist. One day I woke up, and it hurt. Didn’t do anything to it. And I let it go for a couple days ’cause I thought, “Well, I didn’t hit myself or anything. So it’s just gonna go away.” A year later… now I have to get surgery on it. Yes. I have an orthopedic surgeon. I have a go-to orthopedic surgeon. I’ve seen him twice in a year and a half. I went for a shoulder that locked up. Then he fixed it, and now this is broken. And when I went to see him, he was like, “Well, Cris, you’re in your forties.” “Oh, okay. Let’s give up.” He’s just like, “That starts happening in your forties.” “Oh, okay. I’ve had a good run.” Like, that– it’s just… That’s what it is now. And then I started thinking, “I don’t give a shit.” I’ve been smiling so much lately, I’m not even happy. I’m miserable. But I just got my teeth fixed, and that shit was expensive. This is how I cry now. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” “You can do better than him.”
I sort of got– My teeth were so expensive, when I die, I want an open-mouth casket. Like… I didn’t know teeth were so expensive. I got a quote from the dentist. I’m like, “Dude, I’m not buying everybody teeth, like…” Sad when you have to put your tooth on layaway. Like, “Dang, can I visit it?”
But I got new teeth because at 40 I got tooth money. See? Like, we don’t talk enough about this. When you’re a kid who had nothing, and you become an adult, and you start getting money you never had as a kid, that’s a game-changer. And you don’t have to be rich, ’cause you’re rich to yourself. You know? Like, I grew up in poverty. And now, as an adult, I have money I never thought I had. You know? And now, I go crazy. I– Hell– Fuck, yeah. Guess who buys bottled water? I go to Target, I buy regular-price stuff. You peasants, go get your red-tag clearance. At 40, I got new teeth, I got health insurance. Get the hell outta here. What? I’s making it. You know that saying, “money can’t buy you happiness”? That’s bullshit. That’s poor people saying it. Let me tell you, money buy me happiness. When I got money, I went to therapy. I found out I had anxiety and depression. All my life, I just thought I was poor. I’m like, “Of course I’m sad. I’m fucking hungry.” “No!” “You’re depressed.”
The doctor gave me medicine, and now I’m happy all the time. Ahh! I love telling people I’m depressed. You know why? ‘Cause that’s a rich word. You have to spend a lot of money to find out you’re depressed. Some people, like, struggle with depression. I thrive in it. I tell everybody, “Ah-ha, I’m depressed. Mm.” My family thinks I show off. “I’m depressed.” “Ay, mira. Show-off. Okay.” “Oh, I can afford therapy.” But once I started feeling better, I wanted to continue that feeling of feeling better. You know what I mean? I wanted to be happy. I’m like, “How do I continue that?”
Because then I realized, now I had access to things I didn’t have growing up. And it’s hard to figure out that happiness. For me, one thing I did, I made a list. Of all the toys I wanted when I was a kid. And I bought all of the toys. Ah! And they’re not expensive toys. But they were expensive back then. And I had that moment where I played with all of them. And it felt good. You don’t think I got the OG Nintendo with the gun? Damn right I do. I’m decades late, but I duck hunt. Yes, I do. You don’t think I got a Cabbage Patch doll? Damn right I do. I’m not telling that bitch she’s adopted. She’s mine. That’s the gift that keeps on giving. ‘Cause like, the real ones come with birth certificates. I just give ’em to my family. I’m doing that now ’cause it makes me happy. You know? ‘Cause I am a first-generation Mexican American. And let me say… Oh, yeah. Yes! When you’re first-generation, life is a little different. You don’t get those Christmas gifts like everybody else does under the tree. You know what you get under the tree? More responsibility. Every year, my mom’s like, “Ay, I hope it fits.” By the time I was eight, I was helping my family pay for bills and stuff. You know? Translating everything for them. Translating medication, hoping I don’t kill them. Right? Like, “No, drink dos, don’t die.” I’d be at school, freaking out, “Did I say one or dos? I don’t know.” I’m like, drinking, slamming milks like it’s fucking beer. All the other girls are like, “Hey, you wanna play house?” I’m like, “Bitch, I live house. Get the fuck outta here.”
That’s me. But now I have a chance to take care of myself. You guys, it’s amazing when you can do that. But sometimes you have to learn how to take care of yourself ’cause you were never taught how. Thank you! Yes! Dude… I wear glasses now. I don’t know, like… if you… Whoever wears glasses, do you remember the first time you put glasses on? And you’re like, “Fuuu… This has always been here?” Like, you look in the mirror, “I’m Latina?” Dude, when I got my first pair of glasses, I felt so rich. I went to Beverly Hills. I started finding rich people to talk to. Just to be like, “Yo, homie, we both ballin’, right?” Like… You know how rich people like to tell you they’re rich. They’re like, “We just got back from Paris.” I’m like, “I just got back from LensCrafters. Fuck yeah, right? Yes!” “We saw the Eiffel Tower.” “I saw that stop sign there!” “Mira. Glasses, no glasses. Glasses, no glasses.”
I love it. You know? I love being able to take care of myself, but I hate having to learn how to take care of myself. It’s hard. And that’s what we need to talk about more often. Like, for me, when I got health insurance, I didn’t know what to do with it. Like, I– I’d never used it. You know what I mean? I was asking a friend of mine, like, “How do you use insurance?” And he’s like, “Go to the doctor.” I’m like, “I don’t go to doctors.” “I use Vicks.” I’m not kidding. He’s like, “What’s Vicks?” No one had ever asked me that. I felt like it was a hate crime. Like, “What are you…” I didn’t know how to respond. I’m like, “What do you mean?” He’s like, “What’s Vicks?” And I was like, “Oh.” I realized… “He’s white. He has insurance.” Right? So I was like, “I don’t know how to explain it to you.” And he’s like, “Well, what do you use Vicks for?” I’m like, “Your hopes and dreams, dude. Like, everything.” Like… “You can fix a flat tire with it. Everything. It’s… It’s like hope in a jar. Like, it’s Obama in a can. Like, what…” Then he’s like, “I know you use it for everything. But if you read the jar, what does the jar say it’s for?” I’m like, “Who the fuck reads the jar? I’ve never read the jar.”
And, no kidding, he picks up the jar. He’s like, “Oh, did you know it’s expired?” I’m like, “It expires? What?” And that’s when I realized, I know nothing about Vicks. I don’t know what it is. I’ve never read to see what it says on the jar. I don’t know what Vicks is. To the point that if someone held a gun to my head, and they’re like, “Bitch, what is Vicks?” I’d be like, “Fucking shoot me, dude. I don’t know.” And then I would die. But that’s okay, ’cause I’d put Vicks on the bullet wound. And then I would come back to life. That’s what Vicks is. That’s the power! Th– That’s how I grew up. I didn’t grow up with doctors or anything. So when I got insurance, I didn’t know what to do with it, right? So I asked my friend, like, “What do I do with it?” He’s like, “Go get a checkup.” And I was like, “What’s a checkup?” You know what a checkup is? I’m gonna blow your minds. A checkup. That’s when you wake up… you’re not sick… and you say, “Fuck it, let’s go to the doctor anyway. Come on.”
So I google. And the first doctor that would see me was the gynecologist. I had never been to one. I was, like, 40. I had never been to one. I didn’t know what they did. I didn’t know what they did! I was just, like, “Fuck it. A doctor’s a doctor.” I didn’t know they had doctors for down there. How do you know it’s sick? I’ve never heard it cough. And even if I did, I’d probably put Vicks on it. So I went to the checkup. Not knowing what to expect. I walk into the office. She has these silver things. I don’t know what they’re for, right? I take my keys out. I hang them. I think it’s a coat rack, right? By the way, I’m naked. I’m wearing the little paper robe, right? I don’t think anything of it. The first thing I think is, my doctor’s a woman. I’m like, “Man, this bitch got my back. She got me naked in a little paper robe so that when I step on that scale, I am light as fuck.” Because when I check my weight at home, I am naked. Like, when I get on that scale, I am naked. We all know clothes are heavy. This outfit is 50 pounds. I am naked at home. Like, if I’m chewing gum, I’m like… um… Like, I tiptoe. Like, I do “The Karate Kid”. Like, you know what I mean? She comes in with a clipboard, right? And she’s like… “All right, let’s do it.” And I was like, “All right, let’s go.” And we just look at each other. And she says, “All right.” “Got more patients. Lie down. Put your legs up. Let’s see that vagina.” “What the fuck?” So I just finished doing paperwork, and I had written… Like, they asked “occupation,” so I wrote “comedian.”
So I thought she was fucking with me. Right? So she’s like, “Let’s see that vagina.” And I go with it, and I’m like, “Okay. Ahh!” “How’s it look? Ahh!” And she’s so mad at me now. And she’s like, “Lie down. Put your legs up. I need to check that vagina.” I’m like, “Shit. Not with that attitude you’re not. Get the…? No, no, no.” And I just look at her. And she says nothing. And then I realize… “Fuck, I don’t think she’s lying.” And I was like… “You wanna check my vagina?” She’s like, “Yes. I’m the vagina doctor.” I’m like, “What?” And I get so shy, so awkward, that I look at her. I’m like, “Ma’am, I can’t do that. I’m not wearing any underwear.” It’s not showroom-ready. It’s like a fixer-upper. Like… Move that bus! Like… Like, “no,” you know? Like… And she’s like, “Lie down now.” And I realize I have to do it. Like, she’s not letting me go. And I do. And I’m like… Literally, I go down so slow. Like a convertible, right? Like… And I’m going so slow ’cause there’s still part of me that thinks she’s playing chicken, right? Like, I’m gonna go down, and she’s gonna be like, “Ah, bitch, I got you.”
Like… You know what I mean? I go down. I put my legs up. I don’t know what to expect. And I go like this… And she doesn’t do anything. And then she’s like, “Hey, you’re too far. Scooch on down.” And I look at her, and her face is right here. And I’m like, “Ma’am, I think you’re close enough.” She’s like, “No, no, you’re too far. Scooch on down.” And now I’m so mad, I’m like, “Come get it!” Like, I legit told her, “Come get it!” And guess what? She fucking came and got it. Dude, she started treating me like she was moving out of her apartment and had to clean the fridge, you know what I mean? Like… “This is expired, this is expired, this is…” Like, seriously. And it was so quiet. Yo. When I’m dating someone, at least they have a playlist, right? Like, “End of the Road,” something. “Water Runs Dry.”
This woman was all quiet. Like… And then she finishes. And she leaves. Like they all do. I know. I know. You get it, girl. And after a little while, she comes in and she’s smiling. She’s like, “Hey, Cristela, it was really nice to meet you.” And I was like, “Uh, bitch, I’m sorry, no. It’s a little late for that. I’m Mexican. In my culture, we’re fucking engaged. No.” Like, “Oh, I got myself a doctor.” Like you know what I mean? And then I realize that she’s smiling ’cause she has to break some news to me. Mm-hm. So she comes in smiling. She’s like, “Hey, Cristela. It’s really nice to meet you.” “So here’s the thing, um… I think you’re diabetic.” And the first thing I thought was, “How high did she go up?” And I was like, “You’re the vagina doctor.” She’s like, “Yes, I’m the vagina doctor. And you’re diabetic.” I was like, “Wow.” And I thought about it. And I thought about it. And I was like… “How diabetic do you have to be… for the vagina doctor to be the one that finds it?”
I didn’t even know diabetes was an STD. What? Like, what do I do now? Do I have to call up everybody I’ve been with and let them know? Like, “Hey, dude, I just got tested. I tested positive for diabetes. I don’t know if it’s contagious but I just wanted to let you know.” Like, “Tell everybody you’ve been with. Good luck.” And then I started thinking, “What if it’s contagious?” “Who the fuck gave me diabetes?” Now I wanna call up everybody back and be like, “Yo, did you put sugar on your dick?” “Was that a condom or a Fruit Roll-Up? What happened?” And then she tells me she found out I was diabetic from the urine sample. Fucking start with that. I’m all confused. I don’t know medicine. I’m like, “What’s next? The eye doctor says I have a yeast infection? How the fuck does this work?” I was so confused. I’m like, “How did she know?”
Like, did she look down there and Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory was there? She looked down there and an Oompa Loompa came out with a flute. And sang a song, like, Oompa loompa doo-pa-dee-doo This bitch got diabetes type two Like, what happened? Now I can’t do anything anymore. I– I don’t– I don’t do anything. All day long, I just sit at home and watch murder shows. That’s it now. I don’t know why I love murder shows. I’m so obsessed with them. Yo. If I see a marathon of Forensic Files, it’s like porn to me. I sit down in front of the couch. I’m like, “That’s right. Killing for the insurance.” Like, I get into it. There’s a channel called the ID channel. Shows murder 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Murder, murder, murder! I watch it so much, I start cheering for these people. I saw a woman kill her husband last week. I’m like, “That’s right, Lydia.” “We don’t need no man.”
I watch so many crime shows, I think I can solve things in real life. Like if I’m in traffic and there’s a sign that says, like, “Missing Person,” I’m like, “Oh, shit, I’m on the case.” I start looking. I’m afraid that one day I’ll take it too far, right? Like, I’ll get pulled over by a cop and he’s gonna be like, “Did you see that stop sign?” And I’m like, “No, I didn’t see that stop sign. Why? ‘Cause I’m looking for Amanda. What the fuck are you doing?” “That stop sign’s not moving. Where’s Amanda?” The other day, I woke up and I got mad. ‘Cause I was thinking, you ever notice people my age and older, we never got thanked for learning the internet. We gave it to the future. “You’re welcome, future.” We did that. ‘Cause now I’m at the point where, like, I see that there’s kids that are bored that have never had to deal with no technology. We had to figure it out. And now, people will judge you.
Like, I don’t get TikTok. I was like, “I don’t get TikTok. Someone explain it to me.” They’re like, “You’re just too old.” “Fuck you.” Guess what? I gave you TikTok. I had to go through bullshit like MySpace so that you could have TikTok. You don’t know what it’s like to have your friends not talk to you ’cause you wouldn’t put them in the “top eight” spots. What is TikTok? I mean, seriously. The lockdown started, TikTok blew up, and it was just families dancing. People were dying all over the world, but they’re like, “Look at our rhythm.” ¿Abuela? Like, what? To me, TikTok is just hot people pointing at things for, like, a minute. “I know I live with my parents, but here are some business tips.”
We learned the internet. Think about it. We were technological pioneers. One day, we woke up, boom. AOL CDs with 1500 hours on them. We didn’t know what to do. We had to figure it out. There was no YouTube. We had to connect to the internet with a landline. A landline. Some of you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. A landline. Let me explain a landline. Back in the day, a family would share one phone. But it was glued to the wall. And if you were lucky, it came with a long-ass cable. You could talk in the kitchen, in the living room… And you always knew when you had to go back. ‘Cause it was like, “Oh…” If you wanted to get on the internet, you had to unplug your phone, plug it into your computer, and call the internet. And hope it wasn’t busy. And it always sounded like the internet would die for you. Like, “Oh, my God, I don’t know. Here I go.” “You’ve got mail.” “From who?” Using the phone was a big deal. We were all so excited to use the phone. When I was growing up, getting a call at your house, that was a big deal. That was like a rite of passage. When people would start calling you. “Is Cristela there?” “Oh my God, it’s me! Hi!” It was such a big deal because not everybody could do it. Now we’re so connected, I get a phone call, I’m like, “Who the fuck is calling me? Text me like a human being, damn it.” I was expecting so much more from the internet. I thought we were gonna be smart. I thought we were gonna be geniuses. I’m a nerd. I thought, “That’s how you get to Star Trek. We’re all gonna be so smart.”
Guess what? We’re not. We’re dumb. Think about it. The year is 2022. It’s seven years after Back to the Future Part II. Where are the flying cars? We don’t have hoverboards. The only thing that came true was that Biff was president. It was hard to keep in touch with people. But we had to make the effort. My first cell phone had a feature called “weekend and nighttime minutes.” I don’t wanna brag. Back in the day, every cell phone plan would come with a hundred anytime minutes. And after you were done with those 100 minutes, they would charge you a thousand dollars a minute. And if you wanted to talk to anybody you gave a shit about, you had to wait ’til Saturday or Sunday or after00 p.m. And the rest of the week, you’re like, “Man, I hope that bitch isn’t dead.” But we’re so connected, we’re disconnected. Social media? We don’t treat each other like people anymore. People wanna pick a fight with you. Sometimes they’ll call out good shit. They’ll call right shit. But you got people that are looking for anything. They just wanna be mad. Like, I can’t write anything on Twitter that doesn’t upset someone. I can write something simple like, “I hate traffic.” And someone’ll be like, “Hey, you bitch!” “My grandfather is half-Irish, half-traffic!” Like, “What?” Like, “What? What?”
But you know what? Now we need to come together to actually see what we can do. Shit is messed up. But it doesn’t have to be. I never thought that racism was gonna come back the way it did. It never went away. But the power, the pride, that I never thought they were gonna have again. But fuck they do. You know? I didn’t expect the KKK to come back. I mean, and there they are, fucking wearing their white sheets. You know how racist you have to be to spend that much money on detergent? Like, that’s heavy-duty laundry, man. So I started thinking about all that shit. And I started thinking, “I wanna fight that. How do I fight that?” And I started thinking, “Well, that’s a hate group.” Guess what? I hate hate. I was like… “I hate hate.” And I started thinking about it, and I’m like, “You know what? That’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna start a group. And it’s a hate hate club.”
We hate hate. And we use brown sheets. So that they can be dirty and we’re okay with it. Now, I’m pitching it to you. Okay? ‘Cause I– I’m still– I’m still working it out. Okay? So… It’s a hate hate group. And it’s for everybody, but it’s only for Latinos. Okay. So… Hate hate! Everybody’s welcome. Only for Latinos. I call it the Qué-Qué-Qué. ‘Cause every day, I wake up, I watch the news, I’m like, “¿Qué?” “¿Qué? ¿Qué?” In Caucasian, that’s “What?” “What? What?” It’s time to call out the bullshit. There’s been a lot of bad stuff that’s been around for years that we have to correct. Like the whole thinking, “Mexicans are taking away our jobs.” No, they’re not. It just feels like that ’cause it’s Mario Lopez doing that. It’s Mario Lopez taking away your job. Does that guy say yes to everything? That’s the whole thinking. When we talk about “Mexicans are taking away our jobs.”
Right? They make it seem like we’re coming in and just sneaking into the White House, and it’s like, “Ah, fuck it. I’m Chief of Staff.” The truth is, you don’t want those jobs. Do you know how I know? ‘Cause I’ve never seen a white woman out in the fields picking vegetables with Latinos. You’ve never seen that. Out in the field, this white woman, like, “Oh, my God, Maria, it is hot today, right?” “Caliente.” “I’ve had two coconut waters today. It’s fantastic. Hold on. ChapStick. Let’s get to work. I brought my Fitbit for the steps. Hey, after this, do you wanna go get some Italian?”
Thank you guys! My name is Cristela Alonzo! You’ve been fantastic! Thank you so much! Cristela, I’m still waiting here. I hope you didn’t forget about me. You know, we have a movement to run. Yes. Yeah, we have to save democracy, Cristela. Really. I’m here waiting. What happened? Please call me. Oy vey! And up! Use your knees, Page. Come on, push it.
