The Rest of the Story

I'm glad to see that my most faithful readers are still out there, and I loved your guesses. Here is the rest of the story...

Accident Número Uno: The matador was carried out of the ring to the on-site infirmary. He appeared very limp and I thought maybe he was dead. Then, Julie was right; they asked me to finish the job and I killed the beast after a few dances. No, what actually happened was that another matador came out right away, danced a bit, and then the crowd started yelling for him to stop. The first matador had come out the infirmary and wanted to finish the job (get revenge on that bull, I assume). So he went back in and stabbed the bull a couple times, but just couldn't kill the beast (Hotel California reference there, if you didn't catch it). The matador (and the bull, I imagine) was in a lot of pain and limping. He sock was soaked with blood, and he finally gave up. His cronies (the guys that tire out the bull before the matador comes out) came and got him. One very ceremoniously took off his tie, making it into a tourniquet for the matador's leg, and then they carried him away. The other matador finished off the stubborn bull. I left with my heart racing and later that night Spain won the Eurocup. So it was an exciting day!

Accident Número Dos: The waiter apologized profusely, asked if my laptop was okay (Mac was fine), and brought us a free pitcher of Sangría and a roll of paper towel. Later a woman asked how I was. I said "wet", we ordered pizza, and left after paying full price for the pizza. I commented to Guille that in the U.S. we'd have gotten free everything, excellent service (the pizza took 45 minutes), and an offer for free dry-cleaning (like Neogeezer expected, right Dad!?). Spain is different. The pizza was delicious, though.

Two Spanish Accidents

Okay, so I'm on the two month plan. Do I still have any readers left? I thought it would be fun to write about two Spanish accidents: one that I witnessed and one that I participated in. I'm going to let you guess the endings, though. (Hee hee...that way I'll know if anyone still reads my blog.)

Accident Número Uno
I took my friend Julie to a bullfight. (I'm guessing you know what's coming.) If you've never been to a bullfight, let me explain a few things. First of all, there are SIX bullfights (or bull slaughterings) in one "bullfight". Secondly, the matador is very rarely hurt or killed. It is not a fight that the matador or bull wins, but rather a show, an art...almost a dance. Well, this particular evening, the first bullfighter (of the six rounds) was the best, and he went last, too. He was doing great; the crowd loved him and he was "making the bull dance", as the Spanish man next to me pointed out. During the dance, the bull suddenly decided he wanted a partner and caught the matador's leg with his horn. The matador went down, the crowd gasped, and the bull proceeded to run over him.

Accident Número Dos
Guille and I decided to do some work on our laptops and enjoy the beautiful Spanish evening at the same time. So, we went to a "terraza" (outdoor café) with WiFi to kill to birds with one stone. Sitting in the plaza, we order a pitcher of Sangría and as the waiter cleans the table (AFTER bringing us the pitcher), he knocks it over and the WHOLE thing spills on top of me.

You guess how these two stories end. I'll try to post the endings in less than two months. ;)