The next day, Pilar was presented with elegant white coat, and just let me kiss me. We held the arm and headed toward the street Zurbano, aimlessly, in search of a bar for drinks. Curiously, remembering now that we were not tired at all, although in that work both for almost ten hours a day, until seven or seven thirty in the afternoon. We did not care at all. Stayed all day and we were running for Santa Engracia area and surrounding streets, because the area where he worked Pilar, Viso Colony, was quite deserted pubs and bars to eat.
Zurbano discovered in a pub near the British embassy, \u200b\u200bI believe. We sat down and asked for something to drink, while Pilar told me that he had found work quickly in the face that I was dating someone. "Maite, just me, told me: you look so happy today." Pilar was very expressive, all who know it know very well. You could tell right away, without saying anything, if I was mad, happy, radiant, sad or just bored. While telling me that, his face reflected exactly the same speech that he had discovered the same day Maite this morning. He enjoyed recalling the time his partner had discovered he had something to tell. Finally, he had been obliged to explain, and told his companions that he was dating a very nice guy.
By now, after more than two months together, we knew almost everything about each other, at least in circumstances related to work, family and leisure. It was time to know a little better, but the truth is that the first few days we talked very little, if anything. We fused in endless kisses and cuddles, as if we lost time. Pilar
I took one of those early days, an afternoon in which I had taken the car to a bar that still exists, "Elke's" Anastrepha street, a place where some juices prepared death in giant goblet, with ingredients you like. It is curious that many of our friends at that time and later responded with "Ah, yes, Elke's" when they talked about the bellyful of us we took a juice every other day too. If we were still hungry, we got into a chest and back between cruassán stuffed with ham and cheese in a coffee shop located a little further up the street.
Other times we stayed in the area of \u200b\u200bCanal de Isabel II, and more specifically in a bar owned by a couple Galician located on a street perpendicular to Santa Engracia. The history of this bar is rather curious. Normally, only ourselves, to about seven or seven and a half, we went to a pub, for a couple of Cokes and a few beers, and about ten, ten and a half and sometimes even eleven o'clock at night, I performed in the aforementioned bar, hungrier than a couple of wolves, to ask us, and this I think was from the first day, a serving of octopus Galicia.
At first, the woman, who was the one who cooked, made no gesture, but to repeat the move for three or four days, began to show his annoyance, I guess that having to go to prepare a plate of octopus Galician so late at night, and a weekday, in addition, where normally the place was empty or the last customers. I remember I felt some remorse, for the increasingly overt gestures of annoyance of the woman, but because we loved the octopus Galician, we returned each day. "Good evening. Two Ribeiro and Galician octopus, please, "was our greeting to her husband-indeed did not know if they were husband and wife, but as ninety percent of the premises run by Galician is that the custom, we decided that that bar was not going to be less. The husband then looked at his wife, with loops of lamb and a smile on his lips, and that was when she snorted, very light the first few days and then brazenly. It took little to prepare the diet of squid, let us devour it, without exchanging barely a word, not between us or between such intimate partner. We finished drink up the wine, we paid religiously, and even the next day. Once, as he started the car, I watched through the mirror that the couple left the bar and missed the closing what I ended up conceiving the idea that they were really looking forward to going home to rest. Why do not we go to our daily meeting. The Galician octopus woman was preparing to death. So that what happened happened.
Pilar and I we did this as an anecdote, to justify how radical we become when something we do not add up. The fact is that one day, we arrived at the bar of Galicia, as so often, and as so often, we both Ribeiro and ration Galician octopus. The husband looked at the woman, as always, but this time, the good lady did not snorted, as was his custom. Smiled back, and we said "I have no octopus." Pilar and I felt that something was sinking beneath our feet. ! He had no octopus!. Without saying a word, we knew what we were both thinking. "As we go," he told the man. "How to be," said the woman. I have other things. Pork with turnip tops, knuckle with potatoes ... Today I prepared a pie scallops is death. " Nothing. No way. Although the dishes we that desperate women were named as good or better than the octopus, as we saw years later during our stay in Santiago de Compostela, we were so hurt at that time by not having our octopus have dinner, we left the room without any complex. And that was not the worst. The worst was never returned. Do not ask me why. I guess that produce stunning first days, months and years of dating in some cases, had much to do with that drastic decision, but the question is never returned to that bar, which to this day I do not know if it still completely exists.
It was a shame, because that octopus was death, I assure
Zurbano discovered in a pub near the British embassy, \u200b\u200bI believe. We sat down and asked for something to drink, while Pilar told me that he had found work quickly in the face that I was dating someone. "Maite, just me, told me: you look so happy today." Pilar was very expressive, all who know it know very well. You could tell right away, without saying anything, if I was mad, happy, radiant, sad or just bored. While telling me that, his face reflected exactly the same speech that he had discovered the same day Maite this morning. He enjoyed recalling the time his partner had discovered he had something to tell. Finally, he had been obliged to explain, and told his companions that he was dating a very nice guy.
By now, after more than two months together, we knew almost everything about each other, at least in circumstances related to work, family and leisure. It was time to know a little better, but the truth is that the first few days we talked very little, if anything. We fused in endless kisses and cuddles, as if we lost time. Pilar
I took one of those early days, an afternoon in which I had taken the car to a bar that still exists, "Elke's" Anastrepha street, a place where some juices prepared death in giant goblet, with ingredients you like. It is curious that many of our friends at that time and later responded with "Ah, yes, Elke's" when they talked about the bellyful of us we took a juice every other day too. If we were still hungry, we got into a chest and back between cruassán stuffed with ham and cheese in a coffee shop located a little further up the street.
Other times we stayed in the area of \u200b\u200bCanal de Isabel II, and more specifically in a bar owned by a couple Galician located on a street perpendicular to Santa Engracia. The history of this bar is rather curious. Normally, only ourselves, to about seven or seven and a half, we went to a pub, for a couple of Cokes and a few beers, and about ten, ten and a half and sometimes even eleven o'clock at night, I performed in the aforementioned bar, hungrier than a couple of wolves, to ask us, and this I think was from the first day, a serving of octopus Galicia.
At first, the woman, who was the one who cooked, made no gesture, but to repeat the move for three or four days, began to show his annoyance, I guess that having to go to prepare a plate of octopus Galician so late at night, and a weekday, in addition, where normally the place was empty or the last customers. I remember I felt some remorse, for the increasingly overt gestures of annoyance of the woman, but because we loved the octopus Galician, we returned each day. "Good evening. Two Ribeiro and Galician octopus, please, "was our greeting to her husband-indeed did not know if they were husband and wife, but as ninety percent of the premises run by Galician is that the custom, we decided that that bar was not going to be less. The husband then looked at his wife, with loops of lamb and a smile on his lips, and that was when she snorted, very light the first few days and then brazenly. It took little to prepare the diet of squid, let us devour it, without exchanging barely a word, not between us or between such intimate partner. We finished drink up the wine, we paid religiously, and even the next day. Once, as he started the car, I watched through the mirror that the couple left the bar and missed the closing what I ended up conceiving the idea that they were really looking forward to going home to rest. Why do not we go to our daily meeting. The Galician octopus woman was preparing to death. So that what happened happened.
Pilar and I we did this as an anecdote, to justify how radical we become when something we do not add up. The fact is that one day, we arrived at the bar of Galicia, as so often, and as so often, we both Ribeiro and ration Galician octopus. The husband looked at the woman, as always, but this time, the good lady did not snorted, as was his custom. Smiled back, and we said "I have no octopus." Pilar and I felt that something was sinking beneath our feet. ! He had no octopus!. Without saying a word, we knew what we were both thinking. "As we go," he told the man. "How to be," said the woman. I have other things. Pork with turnip tops, knuckle with potatoes ... Today I prepared a pie scallops is death. " Nothing. No way. Although the dishes we that desperate women were named as good or better than the octopus, as we saw years later during our stay in Santiago de Compostela, we were so hurt at that time by not having our octopus have dinner, we left the room without any complex. And that was not the worst. The worst was never returned. Do not ask me why. I guess that produce stunning first days, months and years of dating in some cases, had much to do with that drastic decision, but the question is never returned to that bar, which to this day I do not know if it still completely exists.
It was a shame, because that octopus was death, I assure
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