Drinking with the gitano

As usual Shopping Cycling Partner cleared off for the veg. After a few hours I figured he had either gone to Nerja for a bit of extra exercise or had been waylaid.

So I sent him a text. Asking if he had gone to Nerja. A few minutes later he appeared.

A few hours previously he had cycled round the corner to come up the street.

“Hola amigo” someone hollered at him from the bar.

“Hola” he waved back at whoever-it-was and attempted to cycle on home.

Not a chance. It was Juan the gitano. The guy who gave us the cockerel. And he insisted Non-Bar-Drinking Partner go for a drink.

“I don’t go to the bar,” said Partner. “I know,” said Juan. “But I am paying. I invite you.”

So Shopping Cycling Partner turned into Bar Drinking Partner.

One of the neighbours came up and shook hands. A few minutes later another one followed suit to pay his respects.

The guy from the finca over the road beamed and went over to chat with them.

Clearly Juan carries some weight.

Another young neighbour was sitting at the bar.

“He’s often in here,” gossiped Juan. “He drinks quite a lot.” Juan was already drinking whisky and cokes with his beer.

“How are the chickens and the cockerel? Don’t forget I’d still like to put my small cockerel with your little English one.”

And by way of incentive, “Would you like a peacock?”

Well a peacock would be great. We don’t really have the space though. And they are expensive. Accepting a peacock is not like accepting a hybrid cockerel.

Bar Drinking Partner played it safe. “Well, the little English chicken belongs to my woman, it would be up to her really….And sadly we haven’t enough space for a peacock.”

The unsuccessful business part of the conversation out of the way, Juan launched into his exploits with one of the prostitutes in one of the villages a few miles away. Juan does not have a partner, I should add. He is 48.

“It costs me €50,” he said. “That’s for as long as I can manage. Of course I usually keep going for an hour and a half.”

Bar Drinking Partner murmured appreciatively. Not sure whether it was at Juan’s alleged sexual athleticism or his fertile imagination.

Not everyone is impressed with Juan though. Clearly the fact that the English foreigner had been drinking with the gitano flew round the village and the next-door neighbours ignored us for a week.

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One comment on “Drinking with the gitano

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