sangria hiatus
No. More. Sangria. I simply cannot do it anymore.
Last night, I found myself looking at it in my glass as if it were my mortal enemy (actually, maybe it IS my mortal enemy..). I had to take deep breaths and count to three before each swig. Don't get me wrong, sangria is fantastic- it's like drinking fruit punch.. on crack. But there really is only so much of it you can drink before you start hating it. Nevertheless, Joanne, Nell, and I went out last night for what else.. sangria... and Nell and I, since we've had approximately 48209482 sangria nights in the past month or so, spent the evening looking at each other with looks of defeat as if to say, "why are we voluntarily putting more of this in our bodies?" So, no more sangria. At least not until Allison comes (3 weeks) because I think she would rather enjoy the bar...
To change things up at the normally pretty low-key Cuevas de Sesamo (the sangria place), last night there was a bar fight. Wee! I had yet to see a bar fight in Spain- so I guess it's another thing to check off my non-existent list. The last bar fight I saw, if my memory serves me correctly, was the night before college graduation at Irish Times- between two idiot beer-balled-up, testosterone-loaded Holy Cross football players who didn't stop to think 'Hmm... tomorrow I'm graduating and there will be lot's of pictures to commemorate the day.' Ohhh Worcester- you're classy, classy, classy. So to add a little ambiance to our sangria experience last night, there was the added audiovisual pleasures of yelling, shoving, bloody faces, airborne sangria pitchers, shattered glasses, broken tables.. the whole 9 yards. The poor waiters couldn't do anything to break it up because they're all like 300 years old, so it just continued until these jackasses' friends decided to step in. Or maybe just because one of the guys definitely needed to go to the hospital- the left size of his face was beginning to look like the guy in that movie Mask that has Cher in it. (Random movie allusion- but that's what came to my mind...) Who knows. But at least the police got there.... making their heroic but fashionably late entrance a half hour after the fight ended. Ahh... made me miss hockey games...
1 comment:
Hey, Bets,
Today I was visiting my aunt at Hartford Hospital, and my sister had to get a wheel chair for my 87 year old mother cause those hospital corridors are too damned long for even younger people to walk. The young woman who assisted us was no other than Holy Cross Carolyn who spent her junior year abroad in Sevilla and loaned you her cell phone when you went to Madrid (or was it Sevilla?), the Carolyn whose Mom works at St. Francis and knows your mom. She's now a nurse's aide, and we conversed all the way down the elevator and long corridors and that's how I know all aforementioned. She says hi and that you'd know who she is.
I really enjoy your blog. Your dad turned me on to it. You're quite entertaining and your writing is vividly descriptive. You bring back many memories of my younger days. Of course, now that I'm sober and straight, I can't remember most of those memories!
It was in the sixties in CT today. Hope it's getting warmer in Spain.
Louise Loiselle
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