A Mexicano named Rodriguez went to his doctor to determine the source of his sickness. The doctor, after a lengthy examination, sighed and looked Rodriguez in the eye and said," I've got some bad news for you. You have cancer, and it's very bad. You'd best put your affairs in order."

Rodriguez was shocked and saddened. But, being of solid character, he managed to compose himself and walk from the doctor's office into the waiting room.

To his son who had been waiting, Rodriguez said, "Well mijo, we Chicanos celebrate when things are good, and we celebrate when things don't go so well. In this case, things aren't so well. I have cancer.! Let's head for the bar and have a few beers."

After 3 or 4 beers, the two were feeling a little less somber. There were some laughs and more beers. They were eventually approached by some of Rodriquez's old friends who asked what the two were celebrating.

Rodriguez told them that Mexicanos celebrate the good and the bad. He went on to tell them that they were drinking to his Impending end. He told his friends, "I have been diagnosed with AIDS." His son's eyebrows raised and he opened his mouth, but Rodriguez raised his finger and the frown on his face stifled what his son had planned to say.

The friends gave Rodriguez their condolences, and they had several more beers. After his friends left, Rodriquez's son leaned over and whispered his confusion. "Dad, I thought you said that you were dying from cancer?? You just told your friends that you were dying from AIDS?" Rodriguez said,"Yes mijo, I don't want any of them sleeping with your mother when I'm gone."