Cañas, Camareros & Cunts
The customer isn’t always right, but they’re often the problem. España, a country that gets very little respect from tourists and elitist immigrants; or ‘expats’ as they prefered to be named. I fucking love Spain. I have hope that I can transform into a traditional Spanish Señor in time for my golden years. Accompanied by all the classics: the buttoned-down shirt that reveals a loose gold chain on a hairy, silver chest, the sun tarred skin, the unnecessary walking stick used to point rather than walk, and a perpetually burning cigar in the corner of my mouth. The siesta dream.