I paced around my room after successfully (and distressfully) getting my phone back. It was late, I was not tired, and I was a tad bored. I made sure I was back “home” before nightfall every eve since I was traveling and venturing out alone as a woman.
I was listening to my hosts (a gay male couple) entertain their family [that was] visiting from Cuba. My hosts were Cuban natives living in Spain now – from Miami. It sounded like they were having a good time so I crept out of my room to see what they were up to.
One of my hosts was strutting down the hallway in his high-heels; they were doing outfit size ups making sure everyone was up to par!
I really wanted to go. As I stood there interacting, I was hoping they would ask me to go – and they did. I put on my heels and the seven of us headed out!
The coolest part of my night was “being the exotic one” out of the bunch! (As pointed out later in the evening.) In America, that never happens. (LOL)
We boisterously made our way into bar for “pit stop shots” to fuel or energy. We did a round of shots and kept it moving. I was having an amazing time and simply loving Barcelona’s atmosphere. They were a lively bunch. The walk to the Salsa club was at least twenty-five minutes; good thing I wore my comfortable heels. Pumps would not have cut it.
Everyone was standing around and I was trying to figure out why we were stopping and why they were all congregating in an alley.
“Ah, I saw. They were doing lines of cocaine”. Misadventure!
“Teri, come get some! It’s not that bad.”
Me: Oh, no thanks! Cocaine isn’t really my thing. And, since I leave in the morning – I wouldn’t feel comfortable going through customs with coke in my system!
Peer pressure diverted. I was totally amused by the entire scenario. I stood look-out with someone else in the bunch who opted out of the fun. They stopped once more before we made it to the Salsa Club.
I was rest assured that having a certain amount of cocaine on you was legal. I can’t say I really believed that. But, as long as we didn’t get caught…right?
When we arrived at Agua de Luna, I thought it was amazing. I told them I could Salsa before we got there, but I don’t think they really believed me. We sat ourselves and began drinking our gin and tonics. I was just ready to get to the dance floor!
The dance floor was non-stop. Everyone was spinning, being spun, hips gyrating, and now it was my turn. After getting down with a few dance partners, I had revealed “Teri could salsa”. They told me that I was way better than they thought I would be. Not to mention, I was told that I was exotic! (As I mentioned earlier in the post…NEVER happens in America.)
When we left it was nearly 3AM. We headed back to their place, still making “alley pit stops”. I got the routine! When we got back to their place, I hopped straight in the bed for my two hours of sleep before having to wake up and head back to…Michigan.
I looked into Spain’s drug laws and usage when I got back home. Apparently, Cocaine is in the air!