Monday, January 26, 2009

Vino Del Mar - drink o' champions!


My oh my...what a weekend. Our Friday night started off smoothly. We finally got out of the apartment before 1:30am and we were on our way to the coolest abroad hangout in town -- which I'm pretty sure is just a fishbowl-type spectacle for the Spanish locals who sometimes stop by. We safely made it there, bought two pitchers full of beer, turned around and immediately had nowhere to sit. As the 2 liter beer jug bent my wrist, I pleaded that we just sit down anywhere. Low and behold, a nicely crowded table of cat-calling men. How lovely. As it turned out, they were all very nice guys, however, some were more popular than others (Jirafa? no me gusta... please take a shower, sir). We were all talking, laughing, having a great time, when I suddenly spilled beer on my pants. Yessss! The tell-tale sign of a great night to come. At least for me it is. Per usual, we taxi-ed it to the club and got our groove on. This time, however, I did not waste 20 euros on two drinks (go me!) So we go upstairs and I am having a very popular night, however, things go haywire with the creepers surrounding my friends and we leave in a hurry. It seems to be an ongoing trend, now that i think about it.

Amy didn't come out that night, so none of my friends would let me walk home alone. Naturally, I have no problem sleeping on their couch, but even in my drunken state I remember a conversation we all had about how comfy our friend, Ashton's, bed is. With a reluctant "sure" from Ashton, I jump happily into her double bed ready for a great nights sleep -- unfortunately, so does Ashton and my other friend Mackenzie. At the time, I thought, 'oh how fun! slumber party!!!' As soon as we turned on Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants, they both passed out. I'm talking less than 2 minutes max. Meanwhile, both my arms are over my head, i'm in my full going-out wardrobe and make up, and from a bird's eye view, i know i look like a sardine. After several minutes of readjusting, I give up and try to watch the movie. By now, it's 6am and it's almost 98 degrees in that bed. The beads of sweat drip down my face and I wonder if this is how I'm going to go. Luckily, my alarm rings to go back home before our house mother wakes up, and I, as I later found out, drunkenly jumped out of bed and down the street. So bizzare.

El proximo dia, we had a Barcelona soccer game to attend. Excitement brewing, we pregame with a bottle of 2 dollar wine each. Classy. We figured every american football game we go to only gets really good during the second half, so we're in no rush. Yet, as soon as we step foot in the stadium, everyone begins to stand up, clap, chant, and then leave. Yup, we missed it. Apparently it's a 90 min game, not 90 min halves. But no worries, we rescheduled and we WILL make it to this next game.

We took a dreary, and extremely embarrassing metro ride home, and proceeded to get dressed for a fun clubbing night. Too lazy to go anywhere by taxi, we walk to the nearby club Roxy. Since I've been here, I've frequented this particular club and have caught the eye of a particular bouncer named Iben (or Iven). Tall, dark, and handsome with a long black wool coat, suit, and tie? bingo. So, like the regulars we are, I chat it up with my friend and we are admitted without cover charge. How cool am I?! We enter and immediately check out the upstairs bar too see if any free shots will be possible, but we are attacked by an over-eager beaver of a spaniard. Taking refuge in the French men next to us seemed like the smartest idea at the time, but ended up being smelly and unrewarding as well. At the end of our boring time together, Leah tells them, "Do you like pretty girls? well, when you like a pretty girl, you buy her a drink" They seemed both dumbfounded and just plain old confused.

We head downstairs for better luck, and I swear... at this point, i think everyone in there was gay. If we danced with a group of guys, they could care less about us, coming and going as they pleased. No big deal. We dance for a little while and then get invited to the "bottle service" stage. This is the glowing surface above the dancers that is just too cool for words. This very mousy small man keeps repeating "the drinks are coming!" and we just stand there and wait around. Finally, Leah inquires where there table is, and this guy cooly says "oh, i don't know... we just came up here." Welp, that's our cue! Without a goodbye, we leave the club, but not before Iben and I share a couple of poorly communicated spanish words. He asks for my number, and my night is made. Score!

3 comments:

  1. jackie you're drunk in all your stories

    ReplyDelete
  2. that's cause those are the best stories. you're just jealous

    ReplyDelete