LA GASEOSA

the streets were particularly shitty this morning -- littered with specimens of all varieties -- but people would have been understandably tired this morning as most of the city seemed to have been out last night. not that the heat has ever seemed to keep people inside after nightfall, but the overtones of fall that were everywhere in the air yesterday evening did seem to have ignited something in the sevillian populace. maybe it was just the incitement to dress for fall. and maybe it was the cooler air that made this morning's first-step-onto-the-street blast of crap-fresh air so assaulting, though it's also true that there's no reason to think that the sidewalks would have been any cleaner had the city retired early. had i not been on the other side of the street from him i would have asked the man i saw picking up after his dog the other day if he didn't realize that he didn't have to.

but who could have been upset with this easy sunday morning, which has now given itself over to an equally mild afternoon. it's probably still too early in late summer for it not to be oppressive under the direct sun at one, but hopefully that will have changed by six for the start of the bullfight (manzanares or not, the tickets in the shaded sections are expensive). granted, after two consectutive nights of trying (with middling success) to find a spanish social life, the morning could have gone either way, regardless of how permissive the climate (social or meteorological). in attempts not to repeat the failures of the two previous weekends, which saw us heading home tired just when the action on the streets was picking up, the last two nights we've committed ourselves to bed at nine p.m. so that we could head out after midnight and rested. but getting up from a late evening nap isn't the easiest thing to do if you're not used to it, particularly if what's waiting for you outside of bed is...well, you don't know what's waiting for you, and so maybe you should stay in bed, even if so far your nights out have been encouragingly informative and inexpensive despite their early termination. but you get yourself out of bed and shower with the slightly stomach sick and drowsy foreboding of having to catch an early flight before which you'd decided not to sleep but then couldn't imagine having to face without a little rest for your eyes. having to look good in pants all day (which in late summer still chafes under the midday sun) and then doing it all night knowing that it's going to be expected of you tomorrow is hard work.

of course, there are ways to make it easier. working harder and smarter, although it's still up in the air as to whether the nine to eleven second siestas are very smart, especially since the hard part of making things easier is downing the first couple of rounds at home after that shower (or maybe during if you're short on time). you don't get away with having a full night out on a handful of coins by paying for a bunch of drinks at the bars. luckily, there's a dia right down the street from the apartment. it doesn't seem possible to get a complete haul of groceries from any of the stores of that particular chain supermarkets (or even the makings of a complete meal), but most people do seem just to use them to get what they forgot at the fresher markets. i thought that perhaps that the staff was looking down on me for only ever buying cartons of orange juice and two liter green plastic jugs of tinto (and tinto now refers not to red wine in general but to the stuff that comes in those jugs) until i saw a man whose complete purchase consisted of six forties, a bag of dog food and an economy sized package of toilet paper. (i nearly lost my dia privileges when i burst into unsuppressible laughter at seeing him unload his basket, but really, imagine how much he must shit after chasing all that dog food with all of that beer!)

my standard order increased by one item last night when i found the shelf of dia brand sparkling water at the end of the dairy aisle. one euro seventy-eight is a steal for two liters of tinto, but twenty-eight cents for one and a half of bubbly mixer isn't too shabby either. and you'll probably have to see it yourself to believe that it's called gaseosa. and that's appropriate, probably, because after a couple of mugs of it mixed with that orange juice and that tinto, the gaseosa will be moving in you too. maybe that's what they're giving to the dogs. (w)oof. it did the trick, even if last night didn't end any later than any of the others. we've got dancing we can do on our own, anyway, and at least some new inspiration. la gaseosa. alone in front of the mirror in between third siesta and the coming morning, i think i'd found my flamenco name.