The thing didn’t get better when the bell announced the arrival of a Zaragozan girl. noisily, which Carrots’s flatmate didn’t like at all. Luckily she was not sleeping, she was crying because her boyfriend dumped her or something like this (nothing important).
We went to have a kebab or whatever for lunch and went back home to watch Saw V. Quite a spectacle. But the biggest spectacle was Zaragozan bombarding us with more questions than little Sister-in-law. Even so, thanks to my mental agility for saying “I’ll tell you later”, we could enjoy the film.
When the time to return to Huesca came, we went to take the train. We had very few time, but the train was five minutes late. Taking advantage of that extra time, we bought the tickets and rushed to the platform… in the wrong direction. There one could see that Sister-in-law and I are in better shape than the couple because we where 25 meters before them.
We entered through the exit conveyor belt and four security members (including a well fed woman unable to reach us) came to tell us that we were juvenile delinquents, but they forgave us because we were the cutest ones in the station. After finally missing the train and manage to get our money back with philosophical explanations and youngsters without money, we bought tickets for the bus.
Blonde had to be at 23.45 h in the Fama pub to work in the Licor 43 party. We got home at 23.30 h, with just the enough time for her to get ready (she really needed it) while I prepared two special sandwiches with meat, spinach omelette and pizza which tasted better than they sound.
Once in the Fama, I helped them to set up the stand and empty the first bottle, truth be said (men also get wet). We can’t deny that everybody left the pub happier than we got in. The integration of Boyfriend and I in the hostesses team was such that people asked us for gifts while he gave free shots and I livened up the party dancing behind the translucent curtain.
When the alcohol was over and the stand was put away, Blonde tried to phone me because she couldn’t find me in the small pub. Imagine if we had gone to the Kafka, the biggest disco in the city. At the end she sent me an SMS and I left the fan fans from the day before and their cutie friend to go back to my people. On the way back home we enjoyed Boyfriend’s ethylicaly improved humour.
On Sunday afternoon, eyes half-open, I took the bus back to Vilafranca.
Glossochemia 