Step in at noon.
The fishmonger calls you joven. You ask the price of mangos and she answers in regional slang the textbook never told you about. You haggle. You lose.
You haggle again. Better.
You learn why regatear isn't really a verb — it's a sport. The voice in your ear is Lupita, 58, three decades behind a market stall, cloned with consent.
¿A cómo los mangos, joven?→ How much for the mangos, kid?