Moroccan Lamb and some weed

So, I am in Barcelona, i have almost been here a week. I finally manage to land a job for a week paying not bad money for someone who has a low bank balance, very nice...thank you. (i just have to figure out how to steal a social security number..... so I treat myself to a hair cut ( after Lluis continues to nag me about how bad my hair is) and the hairdresser I want to go to is fully booked. So I head downstairs, because there is a peliqueria practically in front of the back of our building (which is in front of the another block of apartments in a square, so it`s not quite behind the building) and the barber is a Moroccan (what else) hairdresser. he is hot hot hot, has a wedding ring (bitch) but is super friendly. speaks spanish and his mother tongue, both of which fail me. Anyway,he gives me a super duper hair cut, wash, shave etc...the absolute works and it only costs 6 euros. cheap. So I am looking ab fab, with my new pink tan et al, and i´m ready to go out tonight. I cook Lluis and I an amazing indian dinner, followed by a coffee Lluis style (burnt) and some red wine with his own family label (a marketing ploy no less). Lluis puffs away at his joints, whilst I polish off the wine, then some vodka and orange (which 17 years ago I promised myself I would never drink again on account of being drunk for the very first time on the very same ingredients). So, i am sipping my vodka away, Lluis crashes in and out of a coma on the sofa, and I start to think that maybe our idea of cycling to the ´gay beach` at midnight for the party, with the promise of a good cheap E, may not be such a good idea. As it is only 23.20, the night is still young. It is also a fiesta and everyone is setting off fireworks. I have already seen the ambulance drive past, sirens ablast.....I am reminded of this same night 4 years ago, and reading the news the following day of the numerous injuries suffered by idiots and their children after incorrectly lighting fireworks, or worse...buying cheap fireworks without safety precautions......when will people learn.

So Lluis is now asleep on the sofa. If I sneak in to bed now and remind myself of one of his stories, I might just fall in to a coma in spite of the all night fireworks. God love Spain. Someone`s got to.