The old man wobbles into the hotel

after the sidewalk’s been hosed and swept and the entry door’s hooked open.

“Buenos Dias, Nina!”

he growls to the young receptionist behind the front desk.

She is the owners daughter.

She taps the little bell and sings back to him,

“Hola! Viejo!”

He grumbles at her,

but he smiles and chuckles!

He takes his special, reserved seat just outside the cantina doors

orders his cappuccino.

Later, he will order Creme de Cassis… with a huge ice cube

which will take all the hours of the morning to melt.

(Este Antiguo is eclectic in his tastes…)

And he drinks and waits…

He waits for the guests to emerge,

satiated or sleepy from their suites.

And he flirts with them!

He pats the pillows on the couch beside him and winks.

He jokes and laughs at his own jokes with the middle-aged women

enjoying a seaside sabbatical

from the rigors of their single-working-life in Barcelona.

Or with the younger mothers with their children and babies

who have escaped from their rooms

“… so to let their spouses… sleep late.”

The children giggle with and at him.

Their mothers scold them, half-heartedly.

A lady of a certain age on holiday barks a knowing laugh

and waves him off.

(Even if she would, with him, he couldn’t keep up with her

and they both understand this.)

Later, a disappointed, so disapproving, husband,

just risen from his bed,

grumbles to the manager.

“Merde! Does he own the place?”

The manager snorts,

“No, Señor! He is the father of the owner’s wife!

He is a widower these past 7 years,

So, she pays him a small salary.

He is the… atmosphere… here!

Tonight, he will play his guitar.

Not so bad.

But, he will …sing… terrible!

But cheap at half the price!

But he was offered two proposals last season!

The first, he denied out right!

Que fao!

(A man must have his standards, no?)

To the second, he said,

‘Mi hija! Come back next year!

Same time, to try again!

I will examine you to see how you have held-up!

No tengo bastante tiempo to bet on lost causes!’

She is registered, in three weeks, for her same room.

Eh! Who knows?

Miracles come, now, and then they go…”

The husband, by now an empathetic, commiserating amigo

of the old man,

stalks out to the beach, searching for his esposa…

In his anticipation, he picks up his pace.

In his memory, he sees her astride him.

Riding him…

Her long, black, wavy hair cascades over her shoulders,

brushing his chest as she moves,

back and forth…

down and up…

(She, also, is… eclectic…)

And, well, there are teens on the beach,

primos y primas de la casa

to hire for baby sitting… by the hour!

(This hotel is, after all, a family concern…)

The old man winks at the husband as El Toro rushes by.

Quien sabe?

Miracles…?