Late at night..all I think about is Spain .
I have all these memories on my mind right now so why not write them down..right?
1. The night of the yellow submarine.
It was one of my last nights out and it was a typical Spanish night, one in which my leather jacket was stolen. That was a moment I realized how truly amazing my friends are that I met in Spain. We searched high and low and when that didn’t work we drank excessive amounts of beer. This was back in the day when barre libre was still legal in sala. At this point I was..well tipsy and somehow was roped into a free game of beer pong. We played against some Portuguese gentlemen, these men had some friends cheering them on. In this crowd was rui, my frank for some of my final days in sala. After a quality night of shenanigans with him and his German roommate, that is another story entirely but no not what you’re thinking ha, but anyways ran into rui again the next night in kandavia…my home after 330 in the morning. He was able to convince my roommate and I to come hang out with his two Italian roommates and him. Ok I know I’ve seen taken but really what would you do? It was one of those just perfect and surreal nights. We ended up smoking and drinking in their apartment, which was covered in drawings of Kurt cobain and cartman. Don’t worry Emily and I added our own touches to the walls. But by far my favorite point in the night, with rui’s head in my lap and two italians to my right and my new jersey betch to my left ..we all started singing the Beatles. Mind you, these italians didn’t speak English but they knew every word. It was surreal and felt like I was in some cheesy scene of a rom com. Then there was a knock st the door..seriously a movie. We had the Spanish police at the door. I’ll leave it at that, but clearly I’m here in America and fine now..but let’s just say it was a night that was impossible to forget. Besos.
