I’m walking down Bedford Street and pensive and thinking that I’m not a “girl” anymore—the next time I’m in Madrid, the camarero serving me the tinto will certainly call me senora instead of senorita. Feeling sorry for yourself in March is never a good idea—February’s gray is too close, July’s gold is far, far away. So I think of Spain because this cheers me.

I was a lucky, lucky girl the first time I was in Madrid. Granddaddy put us all up at the Ritz and I had just mastered the subjunctive. I felt brilliant and young (no matter that the latter held more water than the former). The city and the hotel and the provincial elegance of the Spaniards conspired to impress my sixteen year-old heart.

Sister was laid up with food poisoning (salmonella from all those slices of tortilla espanola) and Granddaddy and the rest were perpetually jet-lagged. I felt wonderful and free and oddly expressive in a language that I spoke quite well, but not with the same proficiency I spoke Southern. While they napped and poor Sister threw up and drank $5 room-service Sprite in the claw-footed tub filled with expensive gels and salts, I carefully dressed in my Sunday best and sat in the lobby. To appear occupied and important, I brought a book. Edna St. Vincent Millay, a glass of tinto (Jerez sherry when it got very, very hot) and the bodyguards of a Saudi prince kept me company in my corner. The prince was always asleep so his minions and I spent a good deal of time together. I taught them a little quatrain though they never could grasp the title, “First Fig.”

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light!

But the truth was, they didn’t care about poetry. They were all 35 and strong and loved blonde Americans. Would I go up to their room?

(more tomorrow, lovelies…)

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 8th, 2006 at 7:02 am and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.