Drinks with the Catalan.

The other Friday there was a free Spanish guitar concert downtown, so I invited the Catalan to come out (he plays Spanish guitar). He said the concert was too early for him - it started at 6:30pm - but he could meet for drinks later, so we did, at 8pm, which he still said was too early for him... It was very odd to be out at a bar and there was light coming in the window; he usually doesn't go out till 10 or 10:30pm at night.

He was telling me that in Spain, free city concerts don't really start till 10pm, even ones for children.

Also, he was dressed in his Euro-best, which included tight jeans and a pressed collared shirt, and his hair (which is cut in this mohawk thing) was all spiked up with gel.

So, when the bubbly fat (white) waitress came up to us two sitting at a table, she was like, "Hey guys, how are you two doing tonight? You guys going to the Britney concert?", I paused a moment, then leaned in towards her and was like, "He's European."

At that, she just threw her head back and laughed at her faux pas.