If there is a common place and vulgar behavior that promotes picturesque, this is the elevator. I live on the fourth floor without technology, so I do not have no choice but to transport myself and my purchases, removals, and baggage on foot or cats (depending on time of arrival and fuel that I run my inside ...).
This enormous effort of my life now brings me to recall with great affection and nostalgia recent times in my life before I ever moved from the portal on the ground floor to my abode on the first floor within the metal box five feet by five feet, with seating for six people or 400 kilos of cargo. There
lack of space shared with my neighbors above (below me lived only cars) the second be: two adults and four children to hobbies Marian adorned block us out with Vatican flags at each visit of Pope Wojtyla to Spain. The neighbor's attic with his Labrador, old, fat beagle, and his endless chatter (her, not the dog that always seemed very tired) ... The third neighbor be, with his name and profession Galician accountant, who smoked like me but he Ducados outside her balcony two floors above mine and had a single aim always accurate planting their butts smoking between the thoughts of my planters (plants, not speculations). When I was a year in this block, accounting and Galician man married a Colombian woman who was twenty years in Spain and did not look happy, and knowing we were all on time every day, and later corroborated other day in which he left his luggage and planted for never to return ...
As you observed after this brief sketch, life in the neighboring blocks happens to inside doors and partitions. But the process to the door when P and H Company C, occurs always exposed to the eyes neighborhood. And the intimate privacy of your own life I still defended by only a tiny partitions quite permeable to noise pollution. Come I intimate privacy that there is almost nothing. That
my former home as well brought a kind of intercom series by Danone very interesting technology (which is not technology, but it is effective that you shit) that kept us well informed throughout the block. It turns out that the gas pipe, which was up (or down, depending how you look) along the left wall of my kitchen Pegaditas the sink should not be so isolated and / or closed, and while never suffered any casualties or gassed us half stayed telos for any escape, if we save it does not require batteries many radios. Because you standing up to the pile, wool and fairy hands, and pulling with you to stay a little coy, you knew of all culinary conversations came sliding block by Tubillo copper (a large metal driver is, for sure) to serve on a plate on the counter and time all the news real block. A much more effective lujazo radio patio.
So you get to your home when H, with Company C, possibly in state E (intoxicated or drunk) and the best there would have been discreetly and quietly, without Having A cross with no neighbors the body present (though possibly some indiscreet eyes had seen you through the gardens from windows of their houses oriented community recreation area). And
into your privacy were little i in the field of privacy. But you could not lower our guard, because the next day everyone knew exactly what it was they had been cooked inside (through the intercom that of yogurt) and how indecent hours of the morning had been moving pots between your four walls of four few centimeters thick, including gypsum and plaster gotelé. In the faces of the residents of elevator could read with absolute clarity the extent of their knowledge about your privacy.
good old days and what nostalgia! I'm sure my neighbors must know now the same as did the earlier (judging from my own knowledge), but I do not have those three Minutillo shared discomfort in the elevator, leaving no one knows anything while fluid struck up conversations in which brag about our knowledge of meteorology, climate change and the difficulty of drying clothes on the line to which it is falling on this wet season.
But if there are elevators that if I keep working and reporting to me the most stimulating experiences (and if not they should ask to Inti, who sees one and will make your hair like hooks) are lifts hotels.
As you know I enjoy a skinny post-war economy, so when it's up to my pocket to afford a trip and stays away from home, I always appealing to the generosity of my family and my friends or stores shop campaign. But the economies of the companies involved and bring the Inti currante if they are very decent and always take you to hotels that have everything (sometimes up to five stars). And I'm adding the pleasure, try not to miss one. Inti
So will any part of English territory, and on arriving at the weekend that my daughter about her father and the final hour of work, I get in the Vernon or Grison (the not on the floor) and hit my shoe basket without lifting the pedal almost to the bullring, sports or other place of soiree to third, where I pick up the key hotel and there I'll wait for my host while I scrounge lujillos.
One of these small hotels, back in May and Leo, I went to coincide with the closing of the ZP election campaign in his homeland. The event also came to agree as well with a semi-final for promotion to the ACB League playing the local team, the Climalia de León, against the visitor CAI Zaragoza. And where were staying bigard more than two meters from the CAI? Yes sir, I pegadillo hotel, which is that there are hotels that seem plugged.
I have already learned to detract as little as possible copetin hotels, but no liar I'll make spending on the unpaid portion, the price is! So I travel with a backpack necessary to meet any need that may arise during my stay, from sandwiches and Cokes peck to a half-liter bottle with a little Fontvella for cubatilla predescanso spirits and some fancy cervecilla case of pre-rocanroll, that besides my pocket floripondio travel. This means that I get charged these hotels as a mule, and with a big sign and fluorescent signals as Vehicle I Longo. As with all
baggage that I was very relaxed in my elevator Leon for myself, with a backpack leaning against one wall to lighten the weight and my body itself displaced by the volume of the same to the center of the arena elevator when the doors practically closed the carrier to take me to my plant alone until I snapped open the grace of a running shoe that got huge wedge slip into doing. In front of my four pivots appeared even higher than the Empire State Building (cm up or down) and they all went inside.
I educated and to make room, I went up a lift esquinillas beginning to look so toy like myself, and this operation was sliced \u200b\u200bwith my backpack all cartelillos hanging on the walls inside, indicating the weight and maximum number of people, another phone number to call in case of failure and another that prohibited smoking on the premises. In a single movement got throw all. While at the same time trying to bring my pocket of datura to my feet. To bend to hook a esquinillas almost overcomes me the weight of the backpack he lunged forward on my head, making me lose balance fortunately recovered one of the pivot to hold me and bring me back to vertical position. While the other three were entertained to collect the posters of the carpeted floor and try repegarlos. All without any space just to move, it seemed that we were playing "Mess."
I went back to meet them the next morning, when I went down to breakfast, and only dared to share with me down when it was but found it as dressing and no luggage, not even bag. I wish you luck and very sincerely for your party, I do not know if they came to win or not, really.
Well this weekend I was in Zaragoza, in the fantastic five-star Boston hotel, which is all electronic, so little sign of Do Not Disturb and when you go through before the doors of the rooms can fairly accurately interpret the inner life happens in the same thanks to information provided by the LEDs on or off, and you can guess where he is holding a stage riots, who has not yet appeared to sleep and are so many ...
This time our room was on the eighth floor, and that meant that no matter how fast travel outside the elevator going to give enough. It was very promising.
In one of the occasions when I returned to the hotel after giving me a spin around town at parties, I slipped into the elevator and held three ropes of the kind family well, which is distinguished by bob to Ansar moistened, as if they were always freshly combed right out of the shower (rather than domain, the art they have with the hair gel), and polo shirts by Tommy Hilfiger and the height of over six feet well fed worn by all (as evidenced already by the seventies had access to imported foods and eat something other than the national poplar sandwich).
Three or I do not see or choose to ignore me and I do what I always do in these trances, which is imbued in my various thoughts as I watch the movement of the hands of my watch, the icons on my mobile or ceiling directly lift, in this case very interesting because it pretended cielito crashed with a glimmering of these tiny Christmas tree. And then the three men started a conversation:
(Pijo 1): - "Jo, do not imagine the situation"
(Pijos 2 and 3): (nod expectantly)
(Pijo 1): - "I called his wife and asks: is you Louis?. And I say, look Patricia are seven in the morning and not hours. No, not with me Luis, I do not see from the two o'clock it was when I left him ... "
And then you open the door on the fourth floor and go all three taking their conversation without an iota of consideration me. Because for then I did not hide anything and had his ear and atentísimo gesture as if I were the posh four. I put my hand in the cell fotoléctrica the door so it closed, leaned half his body hoping that they remembered me and I almost jump off the elevator and yelling that they could not go now, they had to tell me where I was Louis and who, if he had caught Patricia, if one of them was Luis of yore ...
So two days after the conversation and from this public forum I call these friends and Patricia were in Zaragoza on Saturday 6 October, housed on the fourth floor of the Boston Hotel to communicate with me through this blog and tell me the end of the story, I am come to imagine everything and will give me something.
PD: Heeding my literary critics, in this case the Inti, I tried that interlining thoroughly to peek at my post do not be a stroke of my remaining condensate.
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