Spanish Misunderstandings

So, last week, I’m in Spain, looking at houses and villas to rent. Though I’m actively learning, at this stage I don’t speak much Spanish. At 11am, an agent shows me a villa in a tiny village on the coast, sandwiched between two awesome beaches. You can see it on the hill in the picture below. I like what I see.

At noon, I meet a different agent in the same town, with whom I’ve arranged a viewing for another villa. Oh, it’s in the same complex, I realise, as I head to the address.

She’s waiting out front. Wow, I think, it is literally next door to the villa I just saw. She ushers me inside. Wait a second… it is the same villa! As I comprehend this madness, I am trying to think: ok, what do I do, what do I say in my pidgin Spanish (Fuck! Fuck! I have no words to explain this!)? and by then I’ve been inside ten seconds, looking around like I’ve never seen it before, and it’s too late. Too late, hombre.

So I take the tour, pretending I have never seen the property before—ooh, bueno. Si, si, entiendo. Oh, grande grande—as I die a little inside.

Later, I walk down to the beach, which is stunning. It also happens to be a nudist beach—something I only found out after looking at twenty or so old cocks. I was clothed. No doubt they thought I was the pervert.

So I lean back against a rock to take in the beautiful view and the sun (which I haven’t seen for a year and a half, since leaving Australia), and it just so happens that I have plonked myself down right at the turnaround spot for an old man doing some form of laps. Just as his cock comes into view, he stops and pivots and turns around, only to return a few minutes later. Every single time, he looks over at me, like I have purposely put myself there to gaze at his particularly large Spanish cock.

After my fill, I email the agent that night (with the aid of google translate) to try to explain the unfortunate situation. I never hear from her again.

But the other agent was chuffed. I rented the villa.

When later recounting the episode of the nudist beach, it occurred to me why the sight of the naked man was so repugnant: we evolved from four-legged quadrupeds. The cock is meant to dangle neatly under the body, or retract into a neat bunch. It is, for the most part, hidden. A four-legged beast is foremost head and lattermost rump. Now, every human likes head and rump. That is what humans look at most on other humans: head and rump. These things are pleasing to us. But now that we have become bipedal, and stand upright, without any accompanying significant evolution of the cock, what is foremost? The cock. The cock pushes out and announces itself in a way it should not—in a way that a miserly few million years of evolution has not been able to deal with.

Imagine, if you will, the horse, a handsome beast, some say the most handsome of all. Now imagine that horse—a male, a bridling stallion—turned upright, become a biped. What do you see?  What is in your face? That enormous horse cock. The horse is no longer handsome, because it is foremost a cock, with a horse attached. Imagine it.

I, of course, don’t need to imagine it, as I move to Spain and my nudist beach in a week.

Sonabia

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