My first barcelona bar crawl (yes, foreshadowing here) was comprised of a long haired Argentinean, a Spaniard, a German girl, and an Indian. The Indian and I became instant friends when he asked the leader of the crawl, the Peruvian, to help readjust his braclet he was explicitly instructed not to mess with. My kinda guy. Instructions are optional. At the first bar, we were allotted two Tapas and a sangria or cerveza (look at me! I know beer in Spanish! Mom is so proud). I stuck with the beer because, starting out with sugar the beginning of a crawl is probably not a good idea. I coaxed the bartender into giving me a glass of water. He agreed and revealed every day was a great day because he's always high. Alrighty then sir. You found what works for you. Then before leaving, I snagged another glass. Mama didn't raise no fool. Late 20s drinking requires strategy and hydration \nThe second bar had a really cool "Day of the Dead" kind of theme to it. Tequila shots were passed around and my Indian friend and I met two peruvians whom appeared to be together, but they were brother and sister. He was on this holiday because of a breakup. Man, that's something to keep in mind. Next break up, go to Europe! I do feel for him. \nNext bar, German girl and I "got down with the get down" with some beautiful.... I think they were Danish? Boldly blonde with blazing blue eyes, a guy a few inches shorter than me looked my way on more than one occasion. \nFlattered and intrigued, I returned the look with a smile. It's as if the crowd of girls beside him saw that, because they demanded they leave. The group exchanged hugs with the German girl, and before following the Danish queen bee, the beautiful Danish man hugged me and kissed each cheek. \nFeeling the fire of both blushed cheeks and daggers from the Danish girls, I was frozen in time. I'm not sure if I even managed to smile. He left and shortly after, so did my German friend. On the way to the last and final bar (an exclusive club technically), the long haired Argentinian turned his flirting up to 7 and ended up stealing my first dance at the club. I lost track of my Indian friend for an hour, but was able to locate him on the back porch of the club, on the way to the beach.
Per request of the Argentinian, we made our way to the beach and bought a can of beer from a man with a six pack for €1. I cannot last the conversation at that point but no that I made a spring onion that live close 20 were here. All of us exchange Facebook information karma cause apparently they still a thing in Europe. No boys on my lips, just one or two on my hips, and a bus trip home at 345am. Now that's a good night:))
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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