And Then We Met Some Australians in Barcelona

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So, I met a guy. Do these posts ever really begin any other way?

I met three guys, actually, but we’ll begin with the first one, because he actually asked me to blog about him, and even posed for quite a few photos…of course, after he sobered up and returned home, he changed his mind, but the story is still interesting without his adorable mug to illustrate.

So, the first man, let’s call him #TheAussie because it’s late in Greece and I am a bit sun beat and not feeling particularly inspired. The first was a tall, tan, completely obnoxious Australian guy visiting Barcelona for the weekend, having flown in with a friend from London. Somehow, my lifelong friend, Shelly, and I, met them at my favorite Irish Pub, McCarthy’s, which I’d discovered on my last trip to Barcelona.

Jenn and Shelly in McCarthy's Irish Pub in Barcelona

Comically, they were also lifelong friends. Neither were really my type in the physical sense, but #TheAussie was just the sort of obnoxious and sexy to pique my interest, and before I knew it, we were all doing shots together and then he and I were literally making out in the streets.

We took photos, but he’s asked me not to post them…he literally posed for these photos and then later said, “Please don’t use that.”

Men make horrible decisions while drinking with beautiful women, as it turns out.

I would have totally posted that shit. Shame? I don’t know the meaning of the word.

This was Shelly’s first international trip, and her first time seeing me in real travel mode. We’ve traveled to St Pete, Florida together, but that’s hardly really traveling, isn’t it?

Me in travel mode: take a hot, meet a guy, go wild. She, not surprisingly, followed suite rather quickly, and I knew from that very first evening that my oldest friend in life would likely become my most constant traveling companion.

Jenn and Shelly in McCarthy's Irish Pub in Barcelona

 

We ended that evening the way we would end all subsequent evenings, in the wee hours of the morning, with ice cold beers we’d purchased from street vendors for 1 euro each, wandering Las Ramblas, before collapsing in our bed, giggling about the evening’s events and exhausted from having WAY TOO MUCH FUN!

And with me checking Facebook messenger and WhatsApp for messages for yet another new friend that I hoped to one day kiss again.

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