hnamrnrdk

so im sitting here at paddy’s, my favorite local irish pub in granada. i come here quite alot, hang out with the bartenders (paddy of course, niall, and tony), laugh at the local drunks, and meet random people who turn out to be really cool fuckers. for example, last night jess and i came out to paddy’s to have a drink or two (paddy is a cocktail artist and makes the best long islands around). whilst we were sitting here, getting drunk and chatting it up with tony, we met a funny, old english guy from birmingham named dave. he seemed like a great guy, and told us that if we came back for the liverpool game tomorrow (that would be today) morning then he’d accept the pleasure of buying us a pint. how could we resist?

so i woke up to a call from my friend elliott to see if i was going to come watch the game (what a good friend to remind me that i had a free beer waiting for me). i woke jess up to see if she wanted to come too, got my computer and whatnot together, and walked to paddy’s. when we got here it was pretty dead, but there was dave waiting for us. [as ive been sitting here writing, my friend jack comes around and starts to read over my shoulder. he's english by the way. he wants to be written about in this blog, so i'm going to give him that pleasure.... in a minute... just wait jack, GEEZ.]

so jess and i just sat around thinking about the beers that we wanted to be drinking, and dave brought us a couple of pints. it was perfect… just as i was thinking to myself, “man, my mouth is dry and the only thing to quench this thirst is a beer,” dave presented us with the best and only thing i could have wanted at that moment. so we buggered off our computers and chatted it up with our new british friend. hes a middle-aged character, hanging out in granada, obviously living his life to the fullest. he told us about his son who is fluent in spanish and studying to be a spanish/english teacher. then he pulled out this little tin box and told jessica to go roll a joint (of what he called pollen… basically like condensed keef) in the girls bathroom. so she did. and we walked down the street to the little plaza about a block away, sat on the city bench, and smoked (for my first time since morocco).

when we came back, i decided that it was time to approach jack. oh jack… where do i start? 6 foot 6. body of a greek god. brains like ive never encountered and the face of an angel. but he’s got the eyes of a psychopath. he was of course was here when i got here, yelling and screaming about the game. 4-2. (he wanted to make sure i included that score… the most important part of this blog, if you ask me.) since he had been a bit preoccupied earlier and i didnt want to get punched in the face or the like by interrupting the game… but i thought that it was safe since it was all over, and they had won. so we talked about worldly accents, beastiality, pedophiles, and shark attacks. what a thrilling conversation.

so now here i am, chatting on AIM for the first time in forever, watching more (unimportant, jack tells me) fútbol games, drinking pint after pint of amstel (its all i can afford), and getting lots of mixed nuts from niall, my favorite bartender. as the bar gets more and more busy, and i start to hear more and more languages all around me, i am suddenly struck with the realization that soon i will be back in the states… where everyone speaks english, you dont get free food with your beers, and shawarma is not around ever corner and always open. i will miss my favorite bars, cigarette machines, and all the amazing, wonderful, open, interesting people that i have had the pleasure of meeting here in granada, and all along the way.

now before i get too emotional and start crying (for the… 2nd time) in paddy’s i will have to sign off, and remember that i dont have so say goodbye to granada YET. i guess its time for another pint…