After a long day of walking from esplanada to esplanada, I ended up at Tequila Bar to watch Spain beat France. Tequila Bar is my local. I just randomly ended up there one night eight years ago, and no matter how fed up I am of the place, I keep coming back.
Tequila Bar is a bit of a tasca; a dodgy looking place. But there are always loads of tourists and locals from around the world, so it’s pretty exciting to go and see what strange character you shall meet next. Yesterday, as Ebba and I walked in there were a couple of other regulars there. Their table was full of toasts, smoked salmon, dips and other snacks that one guy had brought from home. To Tequila Bar… And oh it was divine!
So Spain won, and the party began. I behaved. But everyone else was senseless. There were three lovely Indian guys from the UK that we ended up chatting with. Well, we spoke to two of them. The third, we can call him “Snooki”, had a slightly lost look in his eyes and the only word coming out of him was “seiousy”. I figured it was “seriously” he wanted to say, but never really understood what he was serious about.
The last thing I saw before going home was the lineup of Tequila shots. This is why I try to avoid this place.