Perhaps my favorite part about living in a different part of the country is the little differences between “old” home and “new” home.
I’ve come to call Giant Eagle Ralph’s. Pop is soda. Freeways are prefaced with the word the – imagine saying the 270 or the 315. And just when you think you’ve mastered the pronunciation of Ventura or Centinela, you find out you’re making the wrong t sound or putting the emphasis on the wrong part of the word (it’s Ven-Tur-a, not Vent-SHur-a, and Cen-ti-NE-la, not Cen-TIN-ela). Oy. And I’m still not 100% on those being correct.
Recently, I learned that Macy’s has always been Macy’s out here. Lazarus was as foreign-sounding to these westerners as Macy’s was to Midwesterners ten years ago. At lunch, my friends repeated the word slowly, questioningly, “La-za-rus?” My heart goes out to the Californian children who never got a Lazzie-Bear or Lazzie-Dog for Christmas.
And Euchre is no different out here – in a room of 15 or so people, only four of us had even heard of this pastime, let alone played it. I was asked “Where is it played?” Shocked, I realized they didn’t even know it was a card game. When asked, “How hard is it?” my fellow Euchre-players and I came up with this description: “It’s harder than War but easier than 5-Card Stud.” I didn’t even want to bring up the words Cornhole or Left-Right-Center.
And on Tuesday, an easterner-turned-westerner asked me if Chi-Chi’s still existed in Ohio. The three Midwesterners at the table, myself being one of them, shrugged our shoulders – eh, we guessed so. This was when the native Californian, our fluent Spanish-speaker, said, “What?! There’s a restaurant called that?!” The rest of us, curious, verified that, in fact, it was printed in big, curly letters on the outside of the restaurant. And, until that day, I’d always thought of Chi-Chi’s as a wholesome family restaurant where the free chips never ended and the waitresses wore ruffly off-the-shoulder blouses and even rufflier skirts. It seems, though, that for all of those years, on Sundays after church, my family was going to the Spanish version of Hooters.
Yes, Chi-Chi’s is Spanish slang for boobs.
I have always enjoyed “Chi-Chi’s”, but never understood why… That is until today. What a hoot!
Do the Senoritas in Mexico get Chi-Chi jobs?
I have fond childhood memories of Chi-Chi’s with my family . . . though I couldn’t tell you from what state. I really loved their fried ice cream! And I think this is another instance of the truth to the adage “ignorance is bliss.”
Chi Chi Jobs, Tom I’m laughing out LOUD and my eyes are watering!!!!!!
Being boobless myself, I had to look further into this word “Chi-Chi so I googled it. Here is what I found
CHICHI
Pronunciation (US):
• CHICHI (noun)
The noun CHICHI has 2 senses:
1. someone who dresses in a trendy fashionable way
2. elegance by virtue of being fashionable
Familiarity information: CHICHI used as a noun is rare.
• CHICHI (adjective)
The adjective CHICHI has 1 sense:
1. affectedly trendy and fashionable
Familiarity information: CHICHI used as an adjective is very rare.
So after finding this out, I still have to come to the realization that this term will never be used to describe me! :>)
Being a fan of golf from the late 50’s,
it never occured to me to question the
name of Chi-Chi Rodriguez…
In Spanish im told chi chi is breasts,
certainly the french chi chi is trendy / kind of posh, in french its pron’ “shee shee” … Thats where your reference will be from debbie..
However in jamacian its chi chi but said “chitch-chee” and means homosexual / gay.
I’m not sure what to make of this. But here goes. Both my parents were from Latin America. My mom was Dominican and my father was from Chile. When I was born, in spite of having a “real” given name, I was called “Chi Chi.” That was my nickname until I reached school age and then my mom told everyone that it was no longer my name. So “Chi-Chi” was my baby nickname. I have never heard of these other meanings and I’m wondering if these are regional differences which sometimes exist between Spanish speaking countries. For example, in Chile “guagua” is the common term used to say “baby,” but in the Dominican Republic a guagua is a bus. There are probably other examples.