To finish up from Madrid, I ran into my friend Mia at a museum there, so Rich and I hung out with her for the last couple days. Mia, initially thinking that Rich was my equal, treated him like a human being. But when I explained that he was merely my assistant, she began flicking lit cigarettes at him and making him walk in the gutters like I do. In my time with Mia, I realized how aggressive Spanish men are. It´s really astounding. They were hooting and hollering at me, but fortunately Mia told them to stop in her impeccable Spanish, and that was no longer an issue.
Now I am in Barcelona, where they speak some pigeon language called Catalan. Spanish is gross enough, now you´re telling me that you´re bastardizing Spanish- I think there are species of dolphin that use more respectable languages.
Nevertheless, there is an upper class here that is quite elite, and you can tell who they are because they are always wearing Lacoste polo shirts. In fact, I was sitting on a park bench wearing a Brooks Brothers polo, and one of these upper class guys came up to me with the leftovers of his Cobb salad, and said to his young son, ¨You see Pablo, it is our responsibility to help the paupers.¨
On an unrelated point, go see Batman Begins, it´s amazing. More forthcoming.