On the Make
Barcelona’s thrilling, and we had a fine day at the nearby beach town, Sitges, yesterday, lazing in the sun and surf, but I’m exhausted by it all, mostly because the place is so relentless with desire: everywhere you go somebody’s coming at somebody—often enough you—wanting something: money, attention, directions to the nearest metro, your order in the restaurant while you’re still trying to figure out the difference between five kinds of potatoes and which of them, if any, might not possibly have ham in them.
And it’s hard to say which is worse: when indeed you are the object of their need, as when the beach vendors are carrying those cold beers you’re too lazy to walk fifty meters to the stand to buy for yourself and so happily pony up the extra half-Euro to purchase their wares, or when you’re not what they’re looking for at all, as when gangs of tough-looking hookers beckon at you unabashedly for a “date” when all you want is to get safely home and into bed.
But, of course, the world—at least the human end of it—runs on desire, doesn’t it? All these people needing something—food, drink, sex, money, a plastic light-up tabletop model of the Sagrada Familia made in China, a hand-drawn caricature of themselves and their family on vacation in Barcelona, the chance to be made fun of by a human “sculpture,” a couple more glasses of surprisingly cold beer—are what keeps the human condition in condition.
I had two bottles of lager at the Betty Ford last night after Mimi and Jen went to bed; I may not have been the oldest one there—the building at least pre-dated my birth—and while I enjoyed myself, I felt so out of it with nothing powerful need to be snagged on or catch others with; the most pressing desire I had was to avoid gagging on the guy next to me’s cigarette smoke.
And it’s hard to say which is worse: when indeed you are the object of their need, as when the beach vendors are carrying those cold beers you’re too lazy to walk fifty meters to the stand to buy for yourself and so happily pony up the extra half-Euro to purchase their wares, or when you’re not what they’re looking for at all, as when gangs of tough-looking hookers beckon at you unabashedly for a “date” when all you want is to get safely home and into bed.
But, of course, the world—at least the human end of it—runs on desire, doesn’t it? All these people needing something—food, drink, sex, money, a plastic light-up tabletop model of the Sagrada Familia made in China, a hand-drawn caricature of themselves and their family on vacation in Barcelona, the chance to be made fun of by a human “sculpture,” a couple more glasses of surprisingly cold beer—are what keeps the human condition in condition.
I had two bottles of lager at the Betty Ford last night after Mimi and Jen went to bed; I may not have been the oldest one there—the building at least pre-dated my birth—and while I enjoyed myself, I felt so out of it with nothing powerful need to be snagged on or catch others with; the most pressing desire I had was to avoid gagging on the guy next to me’s cigarette smoke.
posted by Professor Dave at 5:32 AM
1 Comments:
I had two bottles of lager at the Betty Ford last night after Mimi and Jen went to bed; I may not have been the oldest one there—the building at least pre-dated my birth—and while I enjoyed myself, I felt so out of it with nothing powerful need to be snagged on or catch others with; the most pressing desire I had was to avoid gagging on the guy next to me’s cigarette smoke.
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