Spanish Supper

We arrived at the restaurant around 8:45PM. For dinner. When I would normally have a last bottle of water, take my anti-depressant and be relaxed in pajamas, finishing up work or giggling over a sitcom.

Instead, we entered a lovely restaurant that was all but empty. For it was fairly early for the evening meal. Still, we had animated conversation (that grew increasingly animated on my part, honestly, as I worked my way through more than my share of a nice bottle of Spanish white wine) over culture and differences and colleagues and growing up.

"They're very smart," he noted of the octopus. "I've snorkled and harpoon fished for a long time, and they're a very clean, intelligent animal."

"That does not," I told him, looking dubiously at the plate of medalions, purple skin still visible on some edges and white meat sprinkled with paprika, "make me want to eat them."

He apologized, looking abashed and I waved off his expression and bravely popped a piece in my mouth, trying to enjoy it though all I could think was 'smart, clean octopus; smart, clean octopus' I'd tried to suggest the asparagus, but ended up with calamari and octopi. That, having skipped lunch, I was hungry enough to eat.

"No cabezas," my dining companion ordered when my plate came. I tried to demur but my stomach turned at the sight of the poor shrimp and their tiny black eyes. So the waiter soon returned with headless shrimp and cod that I consumed with intoxicated, inelegant greed.

And I giggled over stories, both told and heard. I sipped the after-dinner drink that was super-strong after asking if we drank it all at once or slowly savored.

"We're not Mexican," he replied, frowning at me and I blinked at him in surprise. "They drink tequila all at once, don't they?" he asked and I nodded and began to laugh before sipping my tiny glass of something pink.

I am now drunk - barely able to remove my dress and tights and flop on my bed in my oversized t-shirt. I'm drinking water and taking Advil in hopes of avoiding a vicious hangover - I don't drink enough lately to tolerate 1/2 bottle of wine and tiny glass of something pink. Still, it was fun. And we don't start tomorrow until 10:30. So if I do need to vomit, at least I have time to do so!