Monday, October 10, 2011

DAY 8 - SAN SEBASTIAN: grassy arse

I look absolutely wild. My hair and clothes have taken on a life of their own.

What am I wearing?

On a good friend's advice, I went out to 'hit the bars' last night. I've been told I need to add more meat to the blogs. A few gutter stories and a little bit of outrageous behaviour.

So a girl walks into a bar... (before I go on, I need to let you know that 'thank you' in Spanish is 'gracias', pronounced 'grutheeus'. So it's like you have a lisp, until you get to the end of the word, and then you don't. Say 'grassy arse' with a lisp and no one will notice the difference he! he!)... but I digress...

A girl walks into a bar. It's packed with rich Spanish people, all grabbing their pintxos off the bar (pronounced 'pynchos', think of hors d'oeuvres and then double the size) and yelling their drink orders. Girl pushes her way through the herd to the food infested bar, with little hope that anyone will see her and knowing that if someone does, she will have to break into a phrase book scenario that will probably not be appropriate for this scenario.

The barman raises an indifferent eyebrow at her, so she orders a red wine. He looks at her as if to say 'can you narrow that down for me?'

Girl looks back blankly 'I can't help you with that.'

Barman pours a glass of whatever's closest. Actually 'pour' is not the right word. The barmen here don't pour, they throw. The wine is thrown into the glass. Girl tastes thrown wine. Excellent! Now she must thank him for his excellent choice and accurate throwing.

'grassy arse!'

Girl laughs out loud at her hilarious joke and then realises she can never come here again.

No meat. Sorry to disappoint.

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