On Our Way To Crazy

I was walking around Target this morning looking for giant plastic bags, big dangly earrings and decorative pears. You know, as you do.

While I was examining the ziploc offerings, I overheard a conversation between two employees on the next aisle. Let’s call them Zak and Sara.

Sara: Oh my gosh, Zak, did you see that family that came in yesterday?
Zak: What family?
Sara: It was this huge family, tons of people. All the kids and women kind of spread out all over the store and the men were hanging out in Starbucks. After a while, one of the guys got up and BLEW A WHISTLE.
Zak: What? A whistle?
Sara: Yeah. And then all the women and kids started showing back up at the front of the store, and then they all just left. It was so weird.
Zak: That is really weird. Did they buy anything?
Sara: Nope. I think they were gypsies.
(Me, in my head: GYPSIES? Awesome! I want to be friends with the Brentwood gypsies.)
Zak: Gypsies? What are you talking about?
Sara: Oh, well, you know. Hispanics.

WHAT? Hispanics? Gypsies? Is there some kind of roving band of hispanic gypsies I don’t know about? Is there anywhere in the world where those two things are connected? What on earth was she talking about? Is this a thing everyone knows about but me? I hate being out of the loop.