On a late night journey home during my high school years, I found a “rapper” trying to holler in the dark of night at a bus stop by the 21st Street Queensbridge station. He asked me my name at a time where I was just too tired to be me, so I said “Maria” without thinking and actually started speaking Spanish. Mind you, yours truly got a perfect score on her Español Regents, so I definitely didn’t sound like some Filipina-faking-chica. Of course, he got a good laugh from it but actually fell for the guise and tried to sign language me into punching his number in my phone. But I said “Lo siento (I’m sorry)” and hopped on the bus that happened to come just in the nick of time.