September 21, 2005
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///Madrid///Day 4///
Our hero boards a train and receives an unheroic omlette.
It tastes how it looks.
Ate lunch at a pub. There were some Chinese-American tourists sitting on both sides of us (more about it later), but I chose not to capture them as it would ruin the picture. Chinese-American tourists ruin everything.
This place is called the Museum of Ham. Note the retard in the far left corner.
Puerta del Sol. It’s where everyone gathers. You’ll find a lot of college kids and other young adults dressed for booty. Me? I just walk around naked. Gets the point across much much faster.
Found a small tapas bar in an alley, although she got mad at me because she thought I wanted to go into that topless bar down that alley.
Some day, I would like a plaza this big in my house. I’d put my toilet right in the middle.
Tourists are an interesting bunch. Especially the ones from the States.
We’re eating at a pub and in walk a Chinese couple and a Chinese-American family of four. After 15 minutes, the Chinese couple walks out. They have no idea how to order. I overhear they only have an hour to get back to the bus. An hour for lunch in a Spanish pub? They were smart to leave.
The family asked for and received an English menu. They order and start talking amongst themselves. Loudly.
Then the brother hurts the little sister’s feelings. The mother scolds in Chinese while the father clearly questions his choices in life. I’m getting irritated.
Then they call the waiter.
“We only have an hour for lunch so can you hurry up?”
The waiter, in true Spanish fashion, hasn’t even put in their order yet. They get up and leave, pissed obviously.
To me it’s weird, though. They were in the same tour group as the other Chinese couple. Why not share a table and help them order? And why choose a sit down place to eat when you clearly have a limited time off of the bus?
When I see shit like this and remember all of the tour groups my Dad dragged me on, it makes me detest how tours are run. I should run tours. I’d be like the best tour guide in the world.
Because I’d do it while naked.
I’m joking about traveling thousands of miles to order ham and cheese at a tapas bar when the couple next to us realizes we’re Americans, too. They also need help ordering. So we help and end up chit chatting.
A few minutes later, it’s evident these are good people with bad luck. They thought a hotel above Puerta del Sol would be great. Boy were they wrong. They tell us about the never ending noise in Madrid’s most active plaza and the giant neon sign facing their room.
Oh, and there’s no air conditioning.
They’re a couple of empty nesters and have travelled quite a bit, so it’s no big deal to them. Part of the experience, you know? I tell Kinky that I want to skip to that part of life. The kids are grown and we can resume romping around the world.
She says you need to find the right girl first.
Hahahahaha.
Spanish television sucks. Their version of American Idol is boring and two hours too long. It also seems to be on every night of the week.
After walking around a bit we get back to the hotel and, well, none of your business.
Okay, okay, okay. We showered. Seperately. The bathrooms are crazy small. Like my nuts. Anyway.
We decide to hit the hay at around 3:00am. Earlier I had noticed that our hotel was on the same street as a few clubs and bars. Not that much sound, so I figured we wouldn’t have to suffer through what that American couple was suffering through.
At 4:00am, people were in the streets singing. I wake up and look. The street has turned into a river of people. The noise is crazy. But hey, part of the experience right?
The sound doesn’t let up until 5:00 or 5:30. I finally fall asleep.
Until the keg deliveries come at 6:30. Kathunk! Kathunk! Kathunk! until 7:30.
We decide to do the Spanish thing and wake up at 10:00. I also decide that I will have to get drunk later to get some sleep.
Comments (6)
last weekend i stayed at a hotel and got woken up at 5:30 by the alarm clock in the room next door, which just kept buzzing and buzzing… and then no one answered the front desk phone and i had to walk down there in my pajamas.
okay, so walnut creek isn’t as fun and exciting as spain.
it’s never too early to get drunk!
odd how we hate chinese tourist but the minute we step on foreign land we morph into the japanese dad with 2 camera around his neck.
haha tapas/topless bar.. same thing.
my mom told me that they decided to buy a new house, and it was a “gay” community. i said wtf. and then i figured out she meant gated.
lollapa-plaza!
fack. im so jealous. i never get to go anywhere.
that is, anywhere naked…