When a colleague evinces a desire to eat a steak, it is surely not a bad idea to go to an Argentinean restaurant.
Wrong!
Right about the steak, wrong about the ambience. Everyone one seemed hell bent on smoking. I had forgotten just how disgusting cigarette smoke in a place where people are eating actually is. There were also children there and it is illegal to smoke when there are children present but, like so much else which is against the law in Spain, it is all in the enforcement.
Wrong!
Right about the steak, wrong about the ambience. Everyone one seemed hell bent on smoking. I had forgotten just how disgusting cigarette smoke in a place where people are eating actually is. There were also children there and it is illegal to smoke when there are children present but, like so much else which is against the law in Spain, it is all in the enforcement.
Which in their case they have not got.
Not only did I feel nauseated in the restaurant, but also when I got home I put all my clothes which were stinking of cigarette smoke into the wash and I myself had a bath.
The law about smoking in public places is simply a joke in Spain. Places can choose whether or not to allow smoking; so it’s against the law to smoke in restaurants and bars unless you don’t want it to be. Ridiculous and insulting. I will never go back to that restaurant while this contemptible law does not protect the rights of the non smoker, or normal human being! And before anyone asks about the so called ‘rights’ of the smoker, we should remember that they have chosen to do something which is unsanitary, dangerous to themselves and others and offensive. It is their selfish choice and I do not feel that I should be called on to make space for them in my normal activity!
This also raises a point which I find difficult to explain. While I loath cigarette smoking in general, I find women smoking particularly offensive. I have tried to work out why this should be so and I wonder if it is an element of latent sexism in my outlook which is rising to the surface. Why women rather than men? Surely it is equally disgusting. Perhaps there is a stereotypical picture of a ‘caring female’ in my mind which is adversely affected by the sight of a cigarette in the hands of a woman. Perhaps it is a sort of latent resentment of women aping the habits of men where cigarette smoking as been seen (vide. The Marlboro Man etc.) as quintessentially masculine. Perhaps it is a disturbing blurring of the social boundaries of the sexes which is unsettling. Whatever actually explains my detestation of women smoking it is certainly something which disturbs and rattles me. There were women smoking this evening next to and opposite and around children. Disgusting.
It could also be that as I don’t smoke myself it is easy to adopt the high moral tone of a non addict and safely and witheringly denounce a habit which is safely beyond one’s present weaknesses! My self analysis goes no further in the interest of my own peace of mind!
The food (as far as one could tell through the miasmic smoke of filth being breathed out by the other inconsiderate patrons) was very good. But certainly not exceptional enough to risk a second visit.
I have to say, to be fair, that the service which we had from our rather camp waiter was entertainment in itself. The way he illustrated the location of the cut of meat we were interested in by hitching up his leg and giving his thigh a glancing blow worthy of any pantomime principal boy was little sort of theatrical magic! His giggling commendation of our choices from the menu seemed oddly at variance with the resolutely macho atmosphere by which we were surrounded. Good for him!
Going up to Terrassa and being rather pushed for time as I had left the flat late, I worked out where I would be by 1.00pm as a sort of median point to give me a rough guide to how long it would take me to get there and when I arrived at my guide point I was within less than a minute of my target time. I think I am getting too professional on this route!
The day ended with a useful discussion about our next moves to set up our school. Our theoretical talk has been engaging but produced no practical results. Slowly we do, however, seem to be getting a little nearer to finding out the practical elements which have to be considered before we can produce some sort of document which we can sow to prospective investors, parents and officials. It’s slow, but it does seem to be making some sort of progress. I would have to compare our ‘progress’ with the growth of the dead cactus brought from the School That Sacked Me and placed optimistically in the earth. Although apparently dead it did, eventually fill out and produce reasonable and visible growth. As I planted the cactus as a sort of visual metaphor for my progress I can only hope that the metaphor becomes a very real symbol for the progress we hope to make with the school.
Hope springs eternal!
Not only did I feel nauseated in the restaurant, but also when I got home I put all my clothes which were stinking of cigarette smoke into the wash and I myself had a bath.
The law about smoking in public places is simply a joke in Spain. Places can choose whether or not to allow smoking; so it’s against the law to smoke in restaurants and bars unless you don’t want it to be. Ridiculous and insulting. I will never go back to that restaurant while this contemptible law does not protect the rights of the non smoker, or normal human being! And before anyone asks about the so called ‘rights’ of the smoker, we should remember that they have chosen to do something which is unsanitary, dangerous to themselves and others and offensive. It is their selfish choice and I do not feel that I should be called on to make space for them in my normal activity!
This also raises a point which I find difficult to explain. While I loath cigarette smoking in general, I find women smoking particularly offensive. I have tried to work out why this should be so and I wonder if it is an element of latent sexism in my outlook which is rising to the surface. Why women rather than men? Surely it is equally disgusting. Perhaps there is a stereotypical picture of a ‘caring female’ in my mind which is adversely affected by the sight of a cigarette in the hands of a woman. Perhaps it is a sort of latent resentment of women aping the habits of men where cigarette smoking as been seen (vide. The Marlboro Man etc.) as quintessentially masculine. Perhaps it is a disturbing blurring of the social boundaries of the sexes which is unsettling. Whatever actually explains my detestation of women smoking it is certainly something which disturbs and rattles me. There were women smoking this evening next to and opposite and around children. Disgusting.
It could also be that as I don’t smoke myself it is easy to adopt the high moral tone of a non addict and safely and witheringly denounce a habit which is safely beyond one’s present weaknesses! My self analysis goes no further in the interest of my own peace of mind!
The food (as far as one could tell through the miasmic smoke of filth being breathed out by the other inconsiderate patrons) was very good. But certainly not exceptional enough to risk a second visit.
I have to say, to be fair, that the service which we had from our rather camp waiter was entertainment in itself. The way he illustrated the location of the cut of meat we were interested in by hitching up his leg and giving his thigh a glancing blow worthy of any pantomime principal boy was little sort of theatrical magic! His giggling commendation of our choices from the menu seemed oddly at variance with the resolutely macho atmosphere by which we were surrounded. Good for him!
Going up to Terrassa and being rather pushed for time as I had left the flat late, I worked out where I would be by 1.00pm as a sort of median point to give me a rough guide to how long it would take me to get there and when I arrived at my guide point I was within less than a minute of my target time. I think I am getting too professional on this route!
The day ended with a useful discussion about our next moves to set up our school. Our theoretical talk has been engaging but produced no practical results. Slowly we do, however, seem to be getting a little nearer to finding out the practical elements which have to be considered before we can produce some sort of document which we can sow to prospective investors, parents and officials. It’s slow, but it does seem to be making some sort of progress. I would have to compare our ‘progress’ with the growth of the dead cactus brought from the School That Sacked Me and placed optimistically in the earth. Although apparently dead it did, eventually fill out and produce reasonable and visible growth. As I planted the cactus as a sort of visual metaphor for my progress I can only hope that the metaphor becomes a very real symbol for the progress we hope to make with the school.
Hope springs eternal!
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