Mi nombre es Marco
I’m in Barcelona for a few days at the moment, working at UPC. It’s very sticky weather at the moment, which means I didn’t sleep well, which is how I justify not being more adventurous than starbucks in the morning for my coffee.
Like in the US, when you order a coffee at Starbucks here they ask your name so they can match it up at the end. Between my sleepy slur and the local ear, my name seems to consistently be misunderstood, as you can see:
Not that I mind – it’s a simple enough change to cope with, and at that point of the day it’s much easier just to be someone else, so long as I get my coffee.
Strangely, they don’t have non-paper cups, which strikes me vaguely as not being very environment friendly – though perhaps recycling cups is better than using lots of washing up liquid? Who knows?
Also, I’m probably being very bad and using a Spanish phrase here rather than Catalan, but I’m still not that awake and Google doesn’t seem to be able to help me with my Catalan, just my Spanish.
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- Tags: Barcelona, Coffee, Travel