That's right. I have finally managed to BEGIN posting ... and posting about Spain. So I figure I would post a day about Spain each pertinent day. Plus, I gotta organize my pictures and stuff to send to my Dad.


Please forgive any unrepentant snide remarks and excessive cursing. Meh. Nevermind, you folks know how I work.

Anyway ....

****

28 May 2010 in Paris, France. Then on to Madrid, Spain

It is not a rumour - people from France can be real assholes. So can the pilots and air stewards. Whatever. Those chicks were just mad that they didn't get hired at The Playboy Club in Vegas. Probably not big enough boobs.

EDIT : NOT ALL people from France are afflicted with being complete assholes. It was an ill placed (and fairly sweeping) judgment that should only be directed at the staff on Air France flight 127. Advanced and copious apologies. But wait until you see what I say about Americans on my last entry. :D

I got on the plane in Seattle. All the attitute and NONE of the f***ing atmosphere, but my excitement about spending time with Dad in Spain overshadowed the details of the pickle apparently lodged in their collective Air France butt.

Bonjour ! Bienvenue à bord ! Comment allez-vous ? Bonjour…

You know, Hello, welcome aboard, blah blah blah. I smiled and nodded politely. BUSINESS CLASS, BITCHES. You must fly it always. I do. I got free booze, champagne, wine and food. PLUS! An entire three day supply of Clarins products. I can give this to my neighbor. I don't use this stuff. But I did use the socks, earbuds, tiny bottle of water (mostly to spill in my German neighbor's lap), and the eyemask. It was in brown so I won't be multi-purposing THAT for the bedroom. TMI.

Every time the French Doom Squad came through they would mentally PICK OUT the folks that they THOUGHT couldn't speak French. Me included. Apparently tall Asian/European chicks can't speak French. So what did they do? They YELLED and spoke sllllllllllloooooooooooooowwwwwwwwllllllllyyyy in the best broken English they could.

AIR NURSE RATCHET : Whuuuuuuuut caaaaaan I get foor yooou, Madame? Yep, the dumb Asian/European got the "Madame" part. Mental note : Madame was said really fast.

ME : Je voudrais le champagne, s'il te plait

ANR : OH! I deed not know you speak French.

ME : *leaning in, whispering, and smiling condescendingly* Vous avez supposé. Vous n'avez pas demandé. J'ai parié vous également n'avez pas su que j'ai voulu le plat de fromage. Je prendrai un de ceux aussi bien. S'il te plait. *wink and a smile at Air Nurse Ratchet*

Translation : You assumed. You didn't ask. I bet you also didn't know I wanted the cheese plate. I will take one of those as well. If you please. B*tch. (I just added the "B*TCH" part).

So guess how that chick got her revenge? She came around with amuse bouche about halfway through the flight. She had these BEAUTIFUL tartlets of apples, almonds, and melted cheese. With frigging LIVER PÂTÉ hidden below. THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is how I found the barf bag in the seat pocket in front of me. Haha Francophone! When you came by with the ice cream cart during sleepie time? I shoved the barf bag in the second level of the open freezer as you passed me. Quelle surprise, mon cher.

****

FINALLY! Off to Spain!

Same day, 4 hour layover - onward to Spain. I landed at the Madrid Airport about 530pm. I checked my watch and sighed ... Dad isn't here for another SIX HOURS. Son of a b*tch. He text me earlier that day to say that I was listed on the reservation so I may check in anytime I wish. Thoughtful Dad.

I come off the plane and exit to the ground transport area and it's like the cabbies turn into vultures.

DRIVER : You need taxi?

ME : Si. You prefer to speak English or Spanish? *I think to myself : WHY ELSE am I standing in the ground transport area?!?!?! Jesus Christ, I JOKE about looking like a hooker in Seattle. DO I LOOK LIKE ONE IN SPAIN!?!?!? Son of a .... *

DRIVER : OH SURE! My five year old daughter sing Shakira an' Lady Gaga.

I didn't ask that. I asked his preference of language. It's likely his preference is being selectively deaf. I wonder how his wife likes THAT.

HOLY HELL! I thought I drove it like I stole it. This dude, for FIFTY EUROS, got me to the hotel between Madrid proper and the airport in FIVE MINUTES. Welcome to the Spanish Autobahn, mothertruckers.

Frustrated check in agent named Juan at the hotel. I hope this kid isn't the bartender too. OH WAIT - he is.

Waited for Dad patiently. We had to pack our backpacks for six days scheduled around southern Spain.
Until tomorrow ...