May 5, 2005
Gracing the Bottom
There are people who drink bottled water with ice cubes. Each fragment of the preceding sentence itself is nothing extraordinary, but their combination leaves me confused. Part of the point of purchasing purified mineral water bottled at the source is to appreciate its purity. Ice fucks that up.
I went skydiving for the first time in February with my friend Emily. The chaos of the first 30 seconds of freefall was juxtaposed to silence the instant the parachute deployed. Arriving in a new city without lodging reservations, especially as tourist season picks up, is like skydiving: you don't know where you'll land and you can only hope you'll land safely.
(Anyone with a hint of foresight makes reservations ahead of time. I don't. My hindsight has become impeccable.)
I arrived in Seville, Spain at 1:30pm this afternoon. I took bus route C-1 toward the Santa Cruz area and perused the hostel and hotel signs until I found a place I liked with room. In the process the insides of my elbows sweat under the midday sun like an extra set of armpits. I found a reasonable hotel and the silence set in.
I showered and walked around the neighborhood and sat down at a typical cafe. I ordered a coffee with milk and bottled water to drink. The waitress kindly brought out a coffee, a bottle of water, and a wine glass with two large ice cubes gracing the bottom. I poured in the water, lifted the glass, and tilted my head back.