Mercado/Joe Cocker Therapy

I live in the land of mercados. In Barcelona you have access to, by law, a market of the likes you will never see in Fort Wayne, Indiana or Portland, Oregon, not more than a 10 minute walk from your door step.

You know what makes me insanely happy? Going to the market, any market, looking at stuff... meat, vegetables, bananas and then shooting the shit with Fina of the pig parts or the egg guy. Fina kids me mercilessly about my monkey Spanish and I kid her about her life in 3 square foot box of meat. I buy something... and watch her slide the big knife slightly to her favor. Then 6 eggs from the egg man. Non-refrigerated thank you very much. Never got sick once... probably keep us both alive. Then I have a chistorra sandwich and short beer out by the loading dock from my favorite of the mercados four bars. Four bars. In a market. Four bars. Oh I might visit the Italian folks and their stand of 1000 raviolis on the way out...

After that if I am still not happy enough I will put on Joe Cocker's rendition of, "Get by with a little help from my Friends."

Folks you can see all the 120 dollar an hour shrinks you want, you can consume a bottle of 300 dollar Bordeaux all by yourself, you can drive your Mercedes AMG GT to your crib in Malibu, you can... but nothing will make you any happier than shooting the shit with the pig lady, eating a bocadillo and then listening to... 

 

 

 

Robin Willis