Alfa

This is a picture of one of the halls in our school. I figure I should mention it at some point since we spend 6 hours a day there.

Last night we went to a bar called Alfa in Gracia, the neighborhood I'm moving to in a couple weeks. The bar is known for it's 90s music and 45s hanging from the ceiling. I was so excited to go request 90s music all night, especially since the DJ didn't seem to know of very much good music. I went over to the bar to try to help him out.

After I requested "Tainted Love" by Soft Cell (my sixth request of the night), the DJ put his palms together and said - in English - "Please. This is my night. MY MUSIC." I walked away from the bar, defeated, and went back to dancing on the almost empty dance floor (the only other person dancing was a middle aged man who has mastered a soft-core dance imitation of Napoleon Dynamite). By the end of the night, it filled out and the music got slightly better.

Apparently (although I will deny this to the grave) I put my cigarette out in one of my friend's beers which he had set down on the bar to go dance. I guess I assumed it was empty. When he first took a swig of it (that's right, he didn't actually see me do this) he thought someone had slipped a rufee into his drink. A gross, huge, cigarette-flavored rufee.