I always give my victims fair warning.
I ask, “Do you speak English,” and if the answer is in the negative then frankly Jonnie Foreigner only has himself to blame if he is then subjected to the whole force of my enthusiastic Spanish.
The major trouble is that the conversations that I get involved with never seem to be covered by the average phrase book or Spanish lesson. My visit to the bank was a case in point.
As is generally accepted BBVA is the worst and most graspingly unhelpful and avaricious bank in the known universe and it therefore takes a considerable incentive to get me past its hated portals. The recent little domestic difficulty with the pound was such a case.
A Matt cartoon in the Daily Telegraph shows a TV newscaster reporting, “For the first time the pound reached parity with a chocolate coin covered in foil,” which, when you are in the euro zone is not so far from the truth! In effect, the recent troubles have worked out to mean a 40% increase in the cost of living for me when the value of the pound has plummeted to the lower reaches of the Marianas Trench! A visit to the bank manager was called for to ensure the smooth flow of money from the benighted shores of bankrupt Britain to what is now the reassuringly expensive Costas.
As BBVA adopts the world wide courtesy of all banks in providing too few counter clerks I took along my trusty e-book to while away the interminable chunks of time it takes to be seen to in any financial institution. Because of the ever present reality of armed rebellion against BBVA my branch has taken the typically cowardly precaution of installing an electronic cubicle door which only allows one person into the bloody place at a time.
I waited patiently for the inner door to open allowing the person in front of me to enter the bank and for that door to close before the outer door would open for me. I entered the glass prison and an electronic voice told me to get rid of the metal I was carrying. I had to get out of the prison and go to the pathetically few lockers that BBVA provides for any customer stupid enough to attempt to enter their sacred premises by daring to bring guns, flame throwers, bazookas or e-books with them.
Amazingly, and for the first time in my experience, a locker was actually free so my delay was only momentary. I finally entered to find the queue for service stretching the entire length of the bank and surprise, surprise only one bank clerk working.
I however needed to join another queue to see some sort of manager. This was shorter but equally slow moving. And I didn’t have my e-book and so could only join in the rest of the cattle sighing gently and looking with unmixed hatred at everyone around us.
An entire family of what looked like three generations had chosen this particular day to open accounts at this god forsaken bank. When something as momentous as this occurs then the photocopying machines go into overdrive and applicants develop writers cramp by initialling and signing every dun coloured sheet which is put in front of them and then jubilantly stapled together to form the basis of ‘a file’ the most comforting building block of security for any governmental or institutional organization in Spain.
I now watch this tedious process with brain dead eyes because at least I now know what to expect and the active part of my brain tried to work out what I might have to say if the person who was going to deal with me spoke no English.
The person who was going to deal with me spoke no English.
My Spanish is rather like an unimaginative composer from the time of Joseph Haydn – the musical ideas are few but rearranged can give the impression of variety. So with my limited vocabulary; I may not have the precise words but my grasp of round about ways of expression would now make me a shoe-in for a high position in the Circumlocution Office in ‘Bleak House’!
As interviews with bank managers go this went well and there seemed to be no problems and everything would be sorted out. I only hope that what I meant is what she understood! Time, as they say, will certainly tell in this case.
The weather continues thoroughly grey and depressing, apart of course from the waves – which is more than can be said for my representation of the meeting of water and sand courtesy of acrylic paint. I am sure that my attempt at church, beach and bay in Stiges will be more successful. It could hardly be worse.
Leaving aside my almost complete lack of technical skill I thoroughly enjoy the untutored frenzy which characterises my painting style. My choice of brushes is largely governed by their appearance and how nice the bristles feel on the finger. While my application of paint looks towards Bratby - but without his subtlety! My rudimentary knowledge of the colour circle means that my attempts to produce colour matches are restricted by my ineptitude augmented by my slight colour blindness. All in all I think I have the makings of a good all round conceptual modern artist!
Perhaps I should saw the canvases I produce in half and soak them in formaldehyde for that up-to-the-moment look!
Buy now before they get too expensive!
I ask, “Do you speak English,” and if the answer is in the negative then frankly Jonnie Foreigner only has himself to blame if he is then subjected to the whole force of my enthusiastic Spanish.
The major trouble is that the conversations that I get involved with never seem to be covered by the average phrase book or Spanish lesson. My visit to the bank was a case in point.
As is generally accepted BBVA is the worst and most graspingly unhelpful and avaricious bank in the known universe and it therefore takes a considerable incentive to get me past its hated portals. The recent little domestic difficulty with the pound was such a case.
A Matt cartoon in the Daily Telegraph shows a TV newscaster reporting, “For the first time the pound reached parity with a chocolate coin covered in foil,” which, when you are in the euro zone is not so far from the truth! In effect, the recent troubles have worked out to mean a 40% increase in the cost of living for me when the value of the pound has plummeted to the lower reaches of the Marianas Trench! A visit to the bank manager was called for to ensure the smooth flow of money from the benighted shores of bankrupt Britain to what is now the reassuringly expensive Costas.
As BBVA adopts the world wide courtesy of all banks in providing too few counter clerks I took along my trusty e-book to while away the interminable chunks of time it takes to be seen to in any financial institution. Because of the ever present reality of armed rebellion against BBVA my branch has taken the typically cowardly precaution of installing an electronic cubicle door which only allows one person into the bloody place at a time.
I waited patiently for the inner door to open allowing the person in front of me to enter the bank and for that door to close before the outer door would open for me. I entered the glass prison and an electronic voice told me to get rid of the metal I was carrying. I had to get out of the prison and go to the pathetically few lockers that BBVA provides for any customer stupid enough to attempt to enter their sacred premises by daring to bring guns, flame throwers, bazookas or e-books with them.
Amazingly, and for the first time in my experience, a locker was actually free so my delay was only momentary. I finally entered to find the queue for service stretching the entire length of the bank and surprise, surprise only one bank clerk working.
I however needed to join another queue to see some sort of manager. This was shorter but equally slow moving. And I didn’t have my e-book and so could only join in the rest of the cattle sighing gently and looking with unmixed hatred at everyone around us.
An entire family of what looked like three generations had chosen this particular day to open accounts at this god forsaken bank. When something as momentous as this occurs then the photocopying machines go into overdrive and applicants develop writers cramp by initialling and signing every dun coloured sheet which is put in front of them and then jubilantly stapled together to form the basis of ‘a file’ the most comforting building block of security for any governmental or institutional organization in Spain.
I now watch this tedious process with brain dead eyes because at least I now know what to expect and the active part of my brain tried to work out what I might have to say if the person who was going to deal with me spoke no English.
The person who was going to deal with me spoke no English.
My Spanish is rather like an unimaginative composer from the time of Joseph Haydn – the musical ideas are few but rearranged can give the impression of variety. So with my limited vocabulary; I may not have the precise words but my grasp of round about ways of expression would now make me a shoe-in for a high position in the Circumlocution Office in ‘Bleak House’!
As interviews with bank managers go this went well and there seemed to be no problems and everything would be sorted out. I only hope that what I meant is what she understood! Time, as they say, will certainly tell in this case.
The weather continues thoroughly grey and depressing, apart of course from the waves – which is more than can be said for my representation of the meeting of water and sand courtesy of acrylic paint. I am sure that my attempt at church, beach and bay in Stiges will be more successful. It could hardly be worse.
Leaving aside my almost complete lack of technical skill I thoroughly enjoy the untutored frenzy which characterises my painting style. My choice of brushes is largely governed by their appearance and how nice the bristles feel on the finger. While my application of paint looks towards Bratby - but without his subtlety! My rudimentary knowledge of the colour circle means that my attempts to produce colour matches are restricted by my ineptitude augmented by my slight colour blindness. All in all I think I have the makings of a good all round conceptual modern artist!
Perhaps I should saw the canvases I produce in half and soak them in formaldehyde for that up-to-the-moment look!
Buy now before they get too expensive!
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