Final Night out in Madrid

The last 24 hours have been intense, fun, dramatic, and rather sleepless.

Our last student departed Thursday afternoon, and finally a sense of relaxation descended on the camp. Most of us slept all afternoon. A dinner was planned, though nothing thrilling. I hear it was supposed to be tapas, but after the amazing tapas I had the previous night, it would be a sin to call these tapas as well.

I do give it top billing though in terms of the food that came out of that cafeteria.

After dinner, most of us went to Madrid. We headed directly to the Hotel ME rooftop terrace called Penthouse, where we joined a club wide party that was a throwback to the seventies, and eighties. Though, in actuality, it was a mixture of the last 5 decades with flower power through afro's and bell bottoms, and some pretty recent tunes. Perhaps the 60's trends in America just didn't hit until the 70's or 80's in europe and thus the confusion. I really enjoyed it, if I lived here, I might a regular for the nice atmosphere. And for those following, it was basically a meeting for Mi Equipo.

Started chatting with a group of women also enjoying the beautiful night and setting, as well as the party (I think Moet and Chandon was sponsoring it), and it turns out they all worked for Banc of America in Madrid. Pretty sweet! We talked about job situations, or at least tried to as much as possible given the current state of my spanish. Their english was excellent though, two were sisters from the area, and their friend was from Mexico. Shiva really hit it off with one girl, while Kevin, Alex, a few others and myself chatted with the other two about Madrid, work and some fun places to check out our last night – none of which came to fruition.

At one point in the evening their was some saturday-night-fever-esque line dancing next to a Bachelor Party, and Shiva suddenly popped into the middle of it and joined in. It was almost as priceless as when they there were horns blowing from a traffic jam in Plaza de Pantalones Cortes (aka Plaza de Sta. Ana) and we sent him over to direct traffic the night before. They actually listened to him as he stood on the side and untangled the mess. Even the waiters stopped to enjoy the spectacle.

Some of our group had planned to meet up with Rachael and Anabelle by Joy, the club where the two had gone the previous time I was in Madrid with them, so we left just before two, stopping on the way for some Tapas just before the place closed. Kristin and some others went ahead to catch up with them, missing some awesome smoked salmon. It may not have actually been that awesome, but my jewish side has been so deprived and bagels and shmear, and lox… it definitely met a craving I didn’t realize had been getting stronger these past weeks. I also had some delicious cheese, and a glass of Sangria.

The conversation had been good thus far, the company excellent, the views beautiful, and the drinks and food filling. But it was missing the flair that makes a good story. Luckily, the night was still young.

The Drama: Act I:

I knew something was up when we approached and the two, Rachael and Anabelle who had come later in the evening, skipping Hotel ME, and all the sweet parts of the evening, were out on the street, not in the club. Kristin and others were with them. I was getting bad vibes the moment they entered my field of vision.

Apparently, they had gotten drunk together before coming to the club in order to save money [Jenn, if you are reading this, try to forget that last sentence]. Anabelle was betting on them staying together, and only brought enough Euros to cover her entrance, and portion of the cab ride, under the assumption that some of us would want to go back with them, and she could ride free or at little cost based on our kindness - she also didn't bring her credit card, placing her in a position she could sell as being the victim.

They had arrived, gone in (for free, if I understand it correctly), and then while in there it became apparent that Rachael didn't feel comfortable dancing alone, a very reasonable consideration given the language and cultural shock we have all been dealing with on various levels and circumstances.

Thus, Rachael asked Anabelle to dance with her instead of leaving her while Anabelle looking for spaniards to dance with. Then, Rachael wasn't feeling well, and told Anabelle that she needed to go home. Anabelle was furious, because she felt like they had an agreement to stay out together no matter what, and share the expense of the cab ride. Anabelle saw rachael as sabatouging her last and final hurrah in Madrid. Rachael had tears streaming down her face, and Anabelle was yelling towards us how much of a bitch Rachael was, expletive, expletive, expletive. She kept trying to win our sympathy away from the girl who clearly needed the comfort at the moment.

Ironic.

Fernando and Kristin decided to take Rachael back, which was really sad, I was really looking forward to having drinks with them both especially, since our schedules hadn’t really matched up to go out previously. I also really wanted to go Salsa Dancing with Kristin since I had been taking the class she gave a few times during activity period, and was really enjoying it, although I only barely know the basic steps.

However, the staff didn't feel that Rachael traveling alone in her state was a wise idea, of which I concur. I wish that we could have sent the two girls back together, perhaps not an ideal situation, but logical for the rest of us who had similar interests for spending our last night as a cohesive unit together.

Then Anabelle become angry towards them for leaving. I meanwhile observed from a distance still taking it all in, and not wanting to get involved. I only learned details afterwards of what had passed. She kept clinging to Kristin, who first was polite saying she needed to bring her friend home. Anabelle was unaware, and seemed confused why Kristin would want to help someone who was essentially ruining her life. At this point it was a combination of torture and comedy. Kristin became firmer that she no longer wished to remain, and departed. Definitely a smart choice in retrospect, although I did enjoy our one last hurrah after the drama was whisked off into the night.

Four of us remained now, unclear what we wanted to do, in addition to Anabelle. There was Alex who was up for the camraderie, Jenn who didn’t see the point of spending money for a club when it was already three and she wasn’t planning to stay out late, Shiva, and myself. I just wanted to enjoy their company, I would be fine with the club, but really had no strong interest in being in a hot and sweaty room listening to really loud music, and dealing with the morning after ringing that I just found out means that you have forever lost the ability hear a specific frequency!

We had only come to find Kristin and Fernando, none of us were really sold on the clubbing aspect - there was marginal interest, that's all. I made it clear that for me, it was about spending time with a group of people I really enjoyed chatting with, sharing stories with and going out with. In the club, we couldn't really talk, it would be hard to hear, and everyone would either be dancing with themselves, one another, or someone outside the group. It wasn't really ideal in terms of soaking up each other and enjoying our company. Anabelle tried to convince the four of us that we had to join her, that we had an obligation to. She also seemed to believe she was not only entitled to a night of clubbing, but also a shared taxi home. We didn’t even arrive with her. Jenn pointed out that she had already been out multiple times during the program.

Her pleading began as asking in a somewhat rude manner, and quickly became malicious, as she suggested that we were ruining her last experience ever in Madrid to go dancing. She was completely unaware of our lack of interest. Then she wanted us to come back at 5 and meet up with her. We weren't planning to stay that late, just another drink or two, and then home by 3:30 or 4:00. We were accused of many things, and she attempted to guilt us by discussing her financial situation. We offered some suggestions about staying late, and using the buses, but she shot them down saying she did NYC buses, not Madrid buses. She didn’t understand the system. Her lack of financial responsibility didn't convince me of anything, personally. Except that she needed a reality check, and some sobering up.

Act II:

Jenn at this point becomes vocal. It's been at least 30 or 40 minutes at this point. We are letting her know that she needs to make a decision, that she is an adult, and also needs to be financially responsible. She shouldn't be out if she can't cover the possible expenses that may be incurred. Finally, Jenn in a moment of kindness **cough** weakness **cough** offers her twenty euros, which she takes

[I stopped at this point while writing this entry to confirm with Jenn sitting across from me on the bus about using the word weakness, because it doesn't really hit the nail on the head, and I am glad I did ask. She elaborated for me that in fact in a stroke of brilliance, she was trying to buy our way out of the situation, to get Anabelle in a cab so we could go to a bar... or I suppose go clubbing. I think it was more about not wanting spend time with her at that point than a strong distaste for clubbing itself]

without even a thank you. Then she starts to ask if it would be possible to get back for twenty euros, or less, and spend the remainder of her money on clubbing and drinks, and she still wants us to meet her later, she is actually trying to make money from a kind individual who is trying to ensure Anabelle’s safety.

She appears completely unaware that Jenn's personal donation was meant as peace of mind and for her safe return to campus, as well as a hope for a fast exit strategy from the situation. Anabelle is disconnected from reality, and clueless. I hope that she was inebriated, and we were not seeing her character. That would be unfortunate if such a sense of entitlement existed so deeply rooted in her being, it reminded me of the old harvard light bulb joke:

Question: How many Harvard students does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

Answer: Just 1, he stands still and the world revolves around him. (her / her)

Act III:

We finally give her three options, come with us (none of us wanted to deal with that, and besides, 5 don't work in a cab), return the money and do her own thing and take responsibility, or get in a cab using the generous gift to get safely home.

Another period of time passes and now it is nearly 3 in the morning. The bars are all about to close and that drink that we really need is a shooting star across a dark sky, soon to be forever gone (or at least until they reopen Friday).

We hail a cab, I give her my special card and she yanks the door open, gets in, and slams it closed. No one knows what happens after that except that a minute or two later, the cab has not moved. The door is thrown open and slammed shut as she exits in a huff. We are clueless and confused, what happened?

The cab driver seems very annoyed that she is treating his property like this. She spins on her heal and comes back to the cab, and starts demanding, not asking, yelling for the card with the address for the Universidad. He says something, she starts to throw punches and kicks, he defends himself, maybe throws some back, and Jenn and Alex and Shiva step in to break it up. She keeps yelling as they restrain her from a distance. I am quite a few meters away at this point, and arrive just in time to kindly ask him to return my address card, the only momento I really wanted from CTY Madrid, which I had lent to her to get home. He crumples it up, and throws it on the street , yells something in spanish at her and we step away [just confirmed, he was yelling at her: You fucking fucking fucking bitch].

Alex and I walk up the street and find another cab. Luckily, no physical altercation this time, and after a few minutes of silence during which we waited, teeth clenched, each praying in some fashion, it drove off. I never got my card back, and we didn't see her this morning. Melinda though, gave me her card before we left, which was really cool. Apparently, she played a part in this story as well, receiving a note last night attempting to convince Melinda to come to Anabelle’s side of it. So, I suppose she did make it back after all.

Relieved, and feeling necessity for that drink we struck off towards the bars. Closed.

At the Hotel ME, I asked the concierge, and they directed us to a street with many bars, in hopes of finding something still open. As we looked down, people poured out like tributaries after a rainy day. Luckily someone was coming from a nondescript door, and we followed them back into a dark and dingy little bar. Polar opposite from our earlier experience at the airy and chic Penthouse lounge and terrace.

We had a round, and drained from the drama, headed out to catch a cab back.

I arrived, and hopped on Skype where I joined a dinner party serving beer bread that looked amazing, and for almost the next two hours enjoyed some relaxed conversation, just what I was looking for all night, and without doubt I the best company.

Bed around 5:30, awake at 8:15, shower, breakfast, took some photos of Shiva with David, our good spirited chef, and convinced a few more people to come to Valencia. We found a hotel with a rooftop pool, a restaurant, and are booked through Sunday. Sunday night is still up in the air. Kristin may (we are hoping!) join us later today or tomorrow. The saddest part is that Ryan took off this morning, and I didn't get to say goodbye. I guess it means a trip to philadelphia when I get back to catch up and share some good stories.

We have three hotel rooms, and am currently en route. I can only imagine what mayhem will ensue upon arrival.