I'm a wreck. What am I doing. How did I get here. Let's say it's serendipity. No, I use that word too often. As the greats would say, this is fate. I'm simply destined to be tortured by beautiful women.
Now even here in Barcelona, I find myself somehow in bed with a bombshell that wants nothing to do with me. I should've known. Six months ago she wanted to marry me for a green card. Now she's here, sharing a shitty AirBnb in outer Barcelona with me. We're close to nothing so we rent a scooter. The scooter's actually the best thing to happen thus far on the trip. Her idea, and not that bad of one. In fact, it's been an excellent idea. I haven't been on a scooter since Bali.
She's weird and English. She doesn't drink coffee or tea, only coke, and she calls cookies biscuits.
