I agreed to go out with him because he had good teeth and a slow way of speaking Spanish that made me feel like maybe I wasn’t losing the plot completely. Plus, he made paella for dogs as a side business. Not a metaphor. Actual paella. For dogs. That should have been the warning sign.
We met at this pretentious little tapas place near the port that served olives with foam and had a live violinist playing Coldplay. He arrived late, kissed both my cheeks, and immediately launched into a monologue about glass curtains. I didn’t know what that meant. I thought it was maybe a band? Or a metaphor for emotional fragility?
But no. Turns out he installs them. Like, for a living. Specializes in those sliding, frameless panels that keep the view but block out wind. He showed me a photo of one mid-monologue, and I had to admit: it looked kind of amazing. All sleek and modern. Like something you’d have if you were emotionally stable enough to own matching coasters. Glass curtains Javea — that’s literally what he typed into my phone when I asked what the hell I was looking at.
He also said the installation process was “very sensual,” which made me choke on a pickled anchovy.
At some point between the anchovy choking and the third unsolicited tirade about thermal insulation, I realized this date wasn’t going to be salvaged. But I was already two glasses into some surprisingly aggressive cava, and I wasn’t about to pay €7.50 for artisan bread and leave early. So I stayed.
He told me about his divorce (graphic), his cats (plural, shaved), and his belief that paella should only ever be eaten while barefoot (unconfirmed, possibly a fetish).
I nodded a lot. I learned about wind resistance ratings. I said “interesting” so many times I briefly forgot what it meant.
Later, when I was walking home alone, slightly drunk and wondering how I’d gone from adventurous expat to laminated-glass agony aunt, I passed a building with those same glass panels. And okay — yes — they did look beautiful. Like the apartment was wearing sunglasses. I stood there for maybe two minutes staring at them until a child asked me if I was lost.
I said yes.
Which, honestly, is probably the most accurate thing I’ve said since I got here.
