some point in the community of Murcia. October 2006. already knew. Wore all morning waiting for that call and finally, inevitably, your phone rings. Is that food that I have been sparing. Are those guys who wear heavy months giving the slip but, little by little, I have been fencing to acorralarte.
The time is the usual one, two and a half, although you know perfectly well you have to wait until three or three and a quarter. As always. The place is the same. One such heap like so much to everyone. One of those where you eat really, " no nonsense." You ask a cane, maybe a cup of chamomile open for weeks, oxidized at best. Then the usual greetings, "how good you I "," a brave face "," the crisis is for suckers "," is this fucking government. "
already on the table the timeless ritual is repeated. The leader calls the shots, " I never read the letter, the better that we recommend them, they are good friends of mine ." I have a letter out of red shrimps and prawns from the trunk a great "announces the waiter while sharpening his pen pleased with a clientele so docile. " Man, some prawns, of course. And a little ham, but only if it is good. The best thing here is the meat stone. " Of course, in the restaurant Anonymous have a grand bull like everyone else. Shoulder of lamb for more conservative. Only one has the arrests and calls out the script cod. " is by diet, you know? "And you smile to yourself knowing that at least this time, you will not pay the bill. Pay and fuck, you think.
And the time. "White? "Tinto, of course. " White just likes my wife." " What is good is a rosy summer." " Water? Water is for frogs . " Everyone laughs. And the litany of topics that turn the conversation into chaos set to ignorance: "I only like Shores." " Rioja has plummeted." " I have a friend who told me they buy grapes in La Mancha and then there bottle." " In France there are many foolish. For a wine that is neither subject nor any charge you 100 euros. But of course, as stipulated in the European Union whore. " " The wine cellar is as good or better than champagne. I've tried the Dom Perignon on the Aphrodite and knows that Like Freixenet. " The Italians make their wines from grapes that we send from here." "Of course, as with olive oil." "" Australia? But if there is only kangaroos. " Sigh. Your inner smile is first converted into tedium and then suffering when you see the tag parade ever, with his "big book" written really big. "This wine is helluva . I send all the years of the warehouse the same but with a different label. Tomorrow I send a bottle . "
The food goes as usual. Vendors, selling. Buyers pretending to buy and make believe that they have the money to do so. And in between, a badly cut and dried ham for hours, rooms pot, acid and greasy, charred prawns on the plate with this insidious whiff of sulfite, a tasteless crayfish that had better days than the coast of Aberdeen before that someone will freeze the soul. And finally that this idiot effeminate steak with Peter Pan complex who preferred to stay in yearling feedlot and scorched bacon hot plate that will ensure that you change your dress tonight. "Everything is fucking great " snapped the leader. They all nod. Even you. " More wine, pussy we dry. " You try to end this fibrous flesh and bland that has hardly been a weekend for the camera and with these plastic fittings that accompany it. You know either you will get rid of the assortment of homemade desserts, the tart whiskey baptized "with a dash of Ballantine's the worst. " We're going to serve a glass of PX house," says the owner and who invites you to a bottle of Chateau d'Iquem . "As to cash", you think. " sweet wine sucks," proclaims the youngest. Nod. It is true, at least that you have served is. But again, you smile inwardly. It is less.
coffee, drinks, cigars. The conversation always turns the same: Legendary or Barceló, 9 or 12, or Cardhu Chivas of 12 or 21. Someone asks for a gin and tonic. "It's 's hot." All invariably applaud the request of the leader of a jar with lemon juice. " Here I put it natural, no crap boat." All are served. You reject it discreetly. "Sure you do not want a cigar? Watch them for me bring a friend of Cuba. Of those who bring out hidden factories. " " Damn, talking about Cuba, then we could bring to take the penultimate to Aphrodite. They say they have brought some Brazilian scrotumtightening. " Three, four rounds. Topical business that never arrive. Lost time.
impatient look at the clock. And finally, when you think is the right time, you drop. " I have to go." Relieved smile. " Man, no kidding, at least one drink in the Aphrodite." You stand. The bill goes to the leader who takes out his business card and pay. Five hundred and sixty-two euros. Leave a tip eight more. " Chief, a Rondita house, right? . " The waiter, well trained and exceeded their turn for hours, sighs and populates another round. It is seven and a half. The usual farewells: " have to get together more often ", " need to organize a monthly ", " call you tomorrow," you step-mail. " " And that bottle that I have not been forgotten." "Yes, yes, we are at it ... "
smile this time openly. Has Done. Internally pray for green have removed the control at this time. Another gastronomic experience "? worthy of forgetting.
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