I want to bombard Mexicans for closing up a bakery over 9200 kilometers from France
No. Well to bad I’m gonna tel u anyway so in 1832 a french guys pastry shop got destroyed by some rioters so he demanded 60,000 Passos in damages but the shop was only worth 1,000 so they said no after that he goes back to France and after a few years writes tot the king basically saying that the Mexican government owed him money so the king demanded 600,000 Passos Mexico once again said no so war was declared and the French landed in vara Cruz but one of Mexico’s craziest generals was there he fought them off losing a leg in the process so he buried it with full military honors the French left when Mexico agreed to pay up and left although Mexico never fully paid up
but he said I can have only one cannoli
In 1838, if you had a property in Mexico and it got either vandalized or damaged, the government would do next to none to help you out. The country got it’s independence quite recently and was still sorting things out.
So in 1838, in the neighborhood of Tacubaya in Mexico City, a couple of Mexican officials entered a bakery, ate some pastries and left without paying. The baker was french and apparently was pretty angry as he knew no-one would help him out in Mexico, so he literally notified France’s King Louis-Phillipe about what happened.
The French crown used this as an excuse and charged Mexico $600k mxn as a compensation. Like come on, we aren’t paying for a wall in current times, and you think we were going to pay 600,000 mexican pesos when the bakery itself was worth less than 1,000 mexican pesos at the moment?
So France declared war. The first French intervention or as we call it in Mexico (La Guerra de los Pasteles).
We lost the war and had to pay those 600,000 mexican pesos.
But hey, what a quirky story innit?
Well, when i used to leave in new york, (I was only there for a few months, so I wouldn't say I lived there), the parents of one of my neighbors had. A popular business in the area, it sold desserts such as cookies, donuts, cakes, banana splits, ice cream, etc. and they had a little terrace outside, his mother kinda brunette skinned and with long hair (obviously he didn't have the face of karen) and his father was a little black man with short hair, now this will be important later.
the thing is that one day, I was there eating my usual dessert some buñuelos with ice cream (his mom was the only one in the damn city who knew how to make Mexican buñuelos ...) when out of nowhere a family arrives with a boy of 13 years at least, They looked like the typical American stereotype (I am not racist but they seem to be taken from the father of the family show), the father wore a formal shirt and pants, the mother revealing blouse for her ... caliber, and shoes that could be seen a kilometer away, and the boy is wearing a black jacket and stereo-sized headphones. it was extremely uncomfortable
Ek: jukebox head D: petter griffin. (He was not bad, but he should control his family) EM: Karen F:friend EFM: entitled friend mom FD: friend dad
Ek: I can't believe this is the place ... such a rat hole.
Em: uhg, yeah it's gross.
ED: well we are here so ...
f: good morning that you are going to order
Ek: I want some waffles, 3 chocolate ice cream, vanilla ice cream and strawberry ice cream boy.
Take in mind that the triple chocolate ice cream is the most expensive one.
f: sorry, the waffles include only one scoop of ice cream, plus, the price only applies to traditional flavors, triple chocolate costs a little extra
EM: oh come on, black people and their stinginess, it's just two damn balls of ice cream stupid girl!!! it is also his birthday !!
my friend was falling apart so I wanted to intervene, but they say well, peace not war ... unless I am in a safe place, if that’s the case do what you want. but then the hysterical lady began to make a mess and began to yell at her, my friend was about to cry, and what I wanted least happened, the lady spoke to me.
F: sorry ma’am... its against the r-rules. Im not the b-boss is my—
EM: bullshit... you kid... the one with the jacket.
me: (looking around with hope that she was talking to someone else) huh, me??
EM: yeah you!!! Tell this stupid african that here in America we do things differently!!!
me: well,
... keep reading on reddit ➡Hi Everyone, I hope you can help. I read this book in about 1994, so I can't remember much more than there was a young boy who was displaced by World War 2 and he survived by picking oranges from a tree and doing odd jobs to get enough money to buy pastries from a friendly baker. And I'm not 100% sure, but I think it was set in Greece. Thanks in advance.
