Barcelona Clubin'
Jen and I got into Barcelona at 11pm last night exhausted. We could have easily passed out but we planned to arrive in Barcelona on a Saturday night because i´ve heard Jon Hillman tell me for years "Bro, I’m not going to lie, but people in Barcelona know how to party and you haven’t lived life yet."
We were relying on my little sis’s friend from Duke, Leon, to tell us where to go. (By the way, Leon is Jewish and has one of the best names for a jew ever. It tempts me to name my kid Jamal Litvack). Leon told us to meet up with him and his crew at a club called La Paloma.
Jen and I got their around 2am (early for Barcelona club standards). A bunch of mimes stand by the line and greet you by going¨"shhhhhhhhh, silencio por favor". Not sure if the club has to keep quiet because of the neighborhood or they just want to freak out Americans.
We get into the club and order vodka red bulls to wake us up. The club is a huge room pumping club music -- cancun meets acapulco with a euro twist. Apparently, the vodka red bulls are just red bull-red bulls because after a few drinks my eyes are bugging out of my sockets, my heart is pumping and I realize I overdosed on redbull. Jen starts talking to some Argentinean dude for way too long so i go off to find leon. My gimmick is to walk up to girls and go ¨"hey, im a stupid American (george bush accent) and I was wondering if you know leon. Oh and don’t mind me, I’m overdosing on red bull so hard right now." It didn’t work. Leon never came to the club and girls were like "yes you are a stupid American".
Around 5am as the club was getting more crowded I started to wonder if people ever leave or if I was just going to spend the next 5-10 years of my life at La Paloma. I had never been this awake in my life. I envisioned the whole world was destroyed by the apocalypse and la paloma was all that remained of the world.
But then we left around 6am after the Argentinean guy and Jen exchanged emails. Romantic. I asked the mime if i could apply for his job and he spoke to me in Spanish for 10 minutes. I told him i would try and hook him up at CSTV. We couldn’t get a cab so we had to walk back to the hostel. Jen´s heel broke on her shoe and my last thought of the night was "that shit would never happen on A Howard Litvack, American-made, Erica Shoe"
We were relying on my little sis’s friend from Duke, Leon, to tell us where to go. (By the way, Leon is Jewish and has one of the best names for a jew ever. It tempts me to name my kid Jamal Litvack). Leon told us to meet up with him and his crew at a club called La Paloma.
Jen and I got their around 2am (early for Barcelona club standards). A bunch of mimes stand by the line and greet you by going¨"shhhhhhhhh, silencio por favor". Not sure if the club has to keep quiet because of the neighborhood or they just want to freak out Americans.
We get into the club and order vodka red bulls to wake us up. The club is a huge room pumping club music -- cancun meets acapulco with a euro twist. Apparently, the vodka red bulls are just red bull-red bulls because after a few drinks my eyes are bugging out of my sockets, my heart is pumping and I realize I overdosed on redbull. Jen starts talking to some Argentinean dude for way too long so i go off to find leon. My gimmick is to walk up to girls and go ¨"hey, im a stupid American (george bush accent) and I was wondering if you know leon. Oh and don’t mind me, I’m overdosing on red bull so hard right now." It didn’t work. Leon never came to the club and girls were like "yes you are a stupid American".
Around 5am as the club was getting more crowded I started to wonder if people ever leave or if I was just going to spend the next 5-10 years of my life at La Paloma. I had never been this awake in my life. I envisioned the whole world was destroyed by the apocalypse and la paloma was all that remained of the world.
But then we left around 6am after the Argentinean guy and Jen exchanged emails. Romantic. I asked the mime if i could apply for his job and he spoke to me in Spanish for 10 minutes. I told him i would try and hook him up at CSTV. We couldn’t get a cab so we had to walk back to the hostel. Jen´s heel broke on her shoe and my last thought of the night was "that shit would never happen on A Howard Litvack, American-made, Erica Shoe"
posted by litty at 6:13 AM
2 Comments:
Don't tell dad there is more to life than college basketball...I'm not sure how he'd handle it
call me
hey, andrew and i want to name our kid jamal...you can't do that! so, the parents are reading this? oh vey!! i laugh my ass off everytime i ready this. please continue...ps: thanks for the cool web site re: baseball. never knew it! can't wait to see you in philly for st. patty's day weekend.
luv,
cuz stacy
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