A Weekend for the Books

Friday afternoon, the bell's final toll rings at 4pm and they're off!! Cue horse race anthem, for I am headed home for a local weekend, a chance to experience Madrid tranquilly. The afternoon passed as I took a cultural excursion to see a siesta and a couple hours later I cooked myself a solid meal to prepare my body and soul for the night. Tonight's plan: Nena, myself and no Ollie. Instead of referring to a couple of posts earlier, I am talking about my roommates. I had always wanted to get a one on one with both of them. Since I am here alone I have no inhibitions and am able to let my freak flag fly without the festering fear of fumbling your fortitude. Breath. Luckily, in only some respects, Ollie wanted to stay in for the night, which allowed me to enable Nena in any freaky endeavor she wanted to pursue.

We dressed ourselves in our freaky best and headed out for the night, with nothing but some euros, a smile and mentality for never saying no. We walk in only to notice a severe Robert Pattinson look-a-like, we take our pictures of course and I absurdly explain to him why and we continue on. Arriving a little early we get a lay of the land and plan our attack for the night. Dancing on multiple stories and bumping into multiple people, our night was turning into a great success. We were a good tag team, a duo, playing off each other and entertaining crowds. The night was so successful in fact, we got a stalker!!

So we dash to the back as our new "friend" is following us and I duck into the women's bathroom with Nena so as to avoid any potential run-ins but allow time to heal the situation. A couple of minutes later, and 100 awkward stares, we make our way out to the dance floor again. It was as if Amy Smart appeared and then looked up the park neighboring the most registered sex offenders and then went there at sundown. It was not smart. So we shake a hip or two and BAM! Stalker. Finally, a girl came to our aid and tried to diffuse the situation. She brought us upstairs after hearing the tale of the Man that Never Left, but then quickly directed a sequel called The Woman Who Never Left While Helping Diffuse the Problem of the Man that Never Left! The night was nearing an end and by that I mean it literally was as the sun started to blow its morning breath down the shameful alleys of Morning After Lane.

At such an hour, one always just wants to zap themselves from Point A to Point B(ed) and forget the commute. However, in some odd circle of G-d's blueprints for my life, I hear a yell behind me. Turn around, NOT the stalker. I look closer. It is a random person I became friends with while living in New York six years ago that I have never spoken to since. We became friends after I talked to him in Spanish outside of some restaurant and spent a day later on attending a friend's birthday party. BIZARRE RIGHT!

Such a small world, such an interesting night, I love to be internationally known on the microphone. Street run-ins with people you know in a foreign place is like local GOLD!