“This is ridiculous!” gesticulated Marta Hernandez, a 47-year-old mother of three, as she stood in a Kendall Walmart, arms up, cursing her fate in the middle of the kitchen aisle. “I tried Lowes, I tried Target, I tried Costco, and I can’t find a piece of cookware in the entire county! Where did it all they go!?”
Well, it turns out Miami’s pots and pans mostly went to SW 8th Street—first on October 4 and again on the 9th. Once there, they were promptly bludgeoned into scrap metal by their owners’ rapturous celebratory banging. This was no surprise to most residents, who were long since inured to their neighbors streaming into the streets the half dozen times a local team won a championship, those four times we all thought Castro died, and that one time he actually did. It does scare the crap out of tourists, though.
“Winning the Eastern Conference and forcing Game 6 has been a gamechanger,” explained Robert Galant, owner of Kitchen Galaxy in Doral. “Of course I’m happy when the Heat win, but I’m ecstatic when everyone rushes into my store the next day because they can’t make scrambled eggs.”
Back in Little Havana, hundreds of Miamians milled about after Game 5 despite the rainy weather. They waved Heat flags, honked their horns, yelled into the night, broke into spontaneous dance and recitations of “Si tu pasas por mi casa,” and, of course, destroyed their cookware.
When asked why he was banging two cast iron skillets over his head, Eusebio Jamil, a 25-year-old Cuban émigré responded with, “Porque uno no hace suficiente ruido ¡coño!” before bounding into the crowd.
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