At the bus stop near the Plaza Mayor in Madrid:
Me: Would it molest you handsome gentlemen if I took a photo?
Guys: No! Of course not! Where are you from?
Me: The United States. This is my husband. We are on our honeymoon.
Lady: You need to take care of him.
Me: I do. I clean the house. I do the laundry. I cook supper.
Lady: No, you need to make love a lot.
In the bar in Segovia where we stopped for a cup of coffee and ended up getting tortilla, roasted peppers and potatoes, a ham sandwich and a fried sardine sandwich:
Me: Senora, a consultation please?
Lady in bar: Yes, of course.
Me: Does one tip in a bar like this?
Lady: Only if you want to. With us, we are here every day for our little coffee, but for you, it is not necessary. You will not be thought less of if you do not tip.
Me: We’re not from here and we don’t know.
Lady: We noticed that. We were saying that we noticed you were not from here.
Me: My husband wants to know why my tortilla doesn’t taste like the one here.
Lady: Their tortilla is delicious, isn’t it?
Me: It’s wonderful. I told him it’s because you’re supposed to use a lot of olive oil and I don’t because I don’t want to get fat.
Lady: Please don’t take any offense, but we were just saying that your figure is like mine: small on top and bigger on the bottom. But it looks good on you.
Me: Yes, my husband prefers the butt to the bosom, so it’s OK.
Me: We want to visit the cathedral, but we’d rather do something like this.
Lady: Oh absolutely. Cathedrals are nice, but having a beer or a wine is worth the pain.
The end of the line
11 months ago