a star is born

Last night I found myself unexpectedly alone. I craved company, eyeing strangers hungrily, yet careful to keep a respectful distance, or was I just shy? Either way the end was the same. I bought a bottle of wine and made my way to my favorite falafel bar on C/Ferran. I passed the usual assortment of vagabonds, pickpockets, homeless, gypsies and tourists. I noticed one unusual woman, probably in her 70's. She had a threadbare bag with a blanket inside, and was sitting on the steps of a doorway to a business now closed- a typical place for the bedless to bed down. The thing that caught my eye was her bright look: slightly round of figure, she had on a white blouse with rainbow dots cinched jauntily around her waist with a carefully chosen belt. Her cheeks and lips were flush with rouge and her eyes sparkled like stars.

Evidently, she caught the eye of some young gypsies as well, for they gathered round her, chatting away..how her eyes shone as she patted her knees in a dramatic pause before commencing with her story! The youths seemed delighted. I paused for a moment to take it all in, smiled and moved on.

Later, having secured one of the three stools in the falafel shop, I feigned reading the announcements on the wall while secretly longing to talk to anyone to pass the time.

The two workers behind the counter were tall, fair and blond. I vaguely wondered where they were from. The handsome guy occupying the stool near me made sheepish, "gosh, these falafels are messy eating," eye contact with a smile. People came and went. He left.

The old woman from before came in. She said something I couldn't hear, and the tall worker greeted her with an "Hola guapa!". Did she want food? Was she in here regularly? I took another bite.

She said a couple more things I couldn't hear, he joked and continued working.

She stood, hands clasped behind her back, eyes shining, "oohing" and "aaahhhing", face upturned towards something over my head, looking a little like a sunflower gently swaying in the wind, following the sun.

It's a small shop. Although I couldn't remember what was over my head, I didn't want to draw attention by moving round to see what it was...not being a tremendously subtle or patient person, curiosity soon got the best of me: there was a television. She was on it.

Captivated by her own magical image dressed to the nines with a string of faux pearls tied round her neck like a 1920's flapper, matching drop earrings, everything neat as you please.

She spoke to the worker again. He was dear, and encouraging. Further, he came round, put his arm around her and then pointed to the screen to show that they were both in the same movie. She was delighted! (I liked him instantly.)

He went back to work, as she swayed back and forth eyes to the heavens (or in this case, the TV) worshipping the golden glow of her own stardom.

I watched happily for some minutes before the spell momentarily lapsed and she looked around the shop. Our eyes met and with a flash of a smile she quickly closed the distance between us exclaiming, "Oh! Eres bonita!" (Oh! You are pretty!) to which I replied in Spanish, "No more than you!", momentarily regretting my use of informal rather than a more formal Spanish indicating respect for age. I asked her to please join me in "taking" something, using the fantastic phrase "te invito" (literally, "you are invited", but the real meaning is "my shout" or "I'm buying")

She stopped dead in her tracks (I think she was going to pinch my cheeks like a baby). I begged her to please accept- whatever she wished. Tentatively, quietly, she queried, "Una cervesita?" (A sweeter way of saying "a beer") Of course, as you like- why not?!

She seemed shell shocked, and then ecstatic, boasted to the female worker that she had been "invited" by me! Then, troubled, wouldn't I take something too? Who would invite me? I protested that my falafel was plenty for me and offered it up in salute. "Salud!" I toasted, to which she replied, "Salut i força l canut!" (A Catalá toast meaning, "health and strength to the penis"). I nearly choked. Her eyes danced and our heads momentarily met in our conspiratorial laughter. For a moment the years fell away and I saw her standing before me, a mischievous young girl.

I thanked her for the pleasure of her company and kissed her goodbye. She seemed momentarily crest fallen by the loss of a playmate, but soon forgot me in the golden aura of herself in lights, probably given the candle light glow of her lost youth by the added alcohol.