Well, I came face to face with my second attempted robbery today. I was perched at my usual table, at my usual cafe with my dingy Vera Bradley bag upon my lap and my red and black, tacky, East Central High School football boosters umbrella at my feel. Do I honestly look like someone with anything worthy of being stolen?! This was of no concern to the scummy Spanish man that appeared at my table. He sat down in the chair next to me and asked if he could use my computer to send an email. I just stared at him like a deer in headlights (this seems to be my only defense mechanism in situations of this sort), luckily it may have worked to my advantage. When he asked if I have MSN, I replied no. When he asked if I have internet, I once again replied no (meanwhile I had eight tabs of Safari pulled up). I still don't know what his intention was, maybe he thought he would be able to get away with ripping off my computer. Little did he know, I have cat-like reflexes and could run him down all the way to Chinatown (does Barcelona have a Chinatown?... No me importa). Once he decided my clunky, 2007 Dell XPS with a nonexistent battery-life wasn't worth his time, he made like pea soup and split. My new bestie at the cafe, who oversaw the whole debacle, reassured me that he's a frequent robber. Thanks for the heads up.
Which brings me to my next point, if you know some schmuck frequently robs the customers at your cafe, why not take a lead from BIGGs and plaster his face all over the walls. Then, at least, everyone will know who to watch out for. Thats just what I would do. I'll never fully understand the mentality of Spain.
At dinner lately the little girl has been playing a bizarre game with me. She calls it ¿dónde está mi madre? and proceeds by covering her face with the nearest piece of paper and prancing toward my chair. I in turn have to act cutesy and make faces/giggle/pretend to tickle her. I guess its kind of adorable.
Also, in the middle of our game she plopped a babydoll down on my lap. I asked her what its name was and she stared at me like I had just told her to jump off our seventh story balcony, and then told me it doesn't have a name. How can you not name your babydoll?! That was the absolute first thing I did. There were never enough dolls for all the names on my list. And don't even get me started on playing dolls with mom. She named EVERY doll Petunia. It was the most boring game ever, I think she did it just to get a rise out of Jules and I. Its still a sore subject for us to this day.
Thats enough fun for one day, until we meet again.
No comments:
Post a Comment