***UMERO NUMERO DISCLAIMERO***I am NOT prejudiced. BUT…over my life in my little town, things have changed and I don’t think it’s about demographics, you might agree that it’s about courtesy.My husband laid on me it was his turn for dessert in food group and he had decided that he (we) would make Flan…a Spanish Style Custard.So off to the store I go to pick up Flan in a box…like Jell-O. I was at least together enough in this interruption to my day that I knew I might need other ingredients so I tried to read the directions on the box. It was all in Spanish. Now, I am not opposed to the fact that our little grocery store currently includes a double totally Hispanic isle, or that over 80% of the checkers chat in their language and probably laugh at my sunglasses held together with a safety pin…or that even the Flan box is all in Spanish.Well actually I do care about that…I just needed to know if I needed some milk…eggs…perhaps some key ingredient that I don’t want to have to rush back to the store for after golf.So…when I asked her to, this sweet and courteous little checker read the instructions to me..in Spanish…leche…for sure…dos tasas.Ok…When I get back home, I realize when I take off my sunglasses and put on my reading glasses…there in almost plain sight were the directions in English. Dang. I bet she thinks I’m some kind of American dork.But all that really matters is that we were really really nice to each other. And his Flan was the hit of the food group!