I turn to see the hottest woman I’ve seen all week. I smile. Finally . . . something good about this restaurant. “Yes.”
“Could you possibly get me an orgasm?”
“You have no idea,” I reply as I imagine myself bending her over the table.
She blinks. “As in cocktail?”
“Oh . . . right?” I fake a smile. I knew that. Damn it, I need to get laid.
I march to the bar and over to Basil. “Can you make me an Orgasm, please, for Miss Salacious at two o’clock?”
He glances over at her. “I don’t know how to make that.”
“You said you’ve done this before?”
“I lied.”
“Fucking hell. Google it.”
“I already tried. I have no service.”
“This is one colossal fuckup,” I whisper angrily. “The one person I am trying to impress, and you are completely fucking this up for me.”
“Go and ask her what’s in an Orgasm?”
“My fucking dick, that’s what. She’s smoking hot.” We both look over at her, sitting there in her tight black dress and her long dark hair. Another guy comes to work behind the bar. “What’s in an Orgasm cocktail?” I ask him.
He shrugs like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “I don’t know.”
“What?” I screw up my face. “How don’t you know? Aren’t you the barman? Isn’t there a manual or some shit behind there?”
“There is, but it’s written in Italian,” the guy says. “Just do whatever. Nobody ever complains about bad cocktails.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I nod. “Just work it out between you. But make it good because I want to go back to her table at least ten times.”
“Cosmo,” Maria calls. “Plates.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, witch,” I mutter under my breath as I walk back out onto the floor. “Are you finished with these?” I ask two people.
“Yes,” the man snaps.
I glare at him. Why are people being so fucking rude in this place?
It’s like pig city.
I carry the plates back out into the kitchen and see Hayden waiting for food to take out. “What do I do with these?” I ask her.
“Scrape them off into the bin, then rinse them and stack them to the side for the dishy to do.”
“Okay.”
I scrape them off and then look at a huge thing that comes out of a large black pipe in the ceiling. It has a silver big nozzle thing on the end that looks like a drink gun. I try to read the buttons.
Is this the tap?
I look around. How is this the tap?
I hold the plate in the sink and hit the button, and a water jet capable of knocking down a war bunker hits the plate and sprays water all over me and the entire kitchen. The hot plates sizzle as the water hits them. “Ahh.” I try to turn it off, and it goes harder. The hose begins to go out of control and flick around as it sprays everywhere. Everyone is screaming and ducking for cover.
“What are you doing? Turn off the tap, you fucking idiot!”
“If it were a tap, I would,” I cry as I battle the wayward water. “This is a fucking fire hose. Get better equipment, fool.”
Hayden runs over and tries to grab the out-of-control tap as it flies around. We are both saturated. A waiter walks into the kitchen and slips in the water, dropping his tray of plates. “Sorry,” I call. “Occupational safety at its worst.”
Hayden bursts out laughing, and I do too. This is ridiculous.
“Get out of my kitchen,” the owner cries. “You idiots!”
I take off my apron, and Hayden’s eyes widen. “We’re out of here.”
“What?”
I spin her away from me and undo her apron, and I grab her hand. “Let’s go.” We run through the restaurant, and Basil’s eyes widen when he sees us. He looks around as if not sure what to do, and then he makes a run for it too. We run out onto the street and burst out laughing, completely saturated and looking like drowned rats.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Basil gasps as he looks us up and down.
“Fire hose.”
His eyes widen. “He sprayed you with the fire hose?”
“Yes,” I lie.
“Holy shit,” he cries. “We need to report him to someone. That’s just wrong, man . . . the instructions need to be in English.”
I’m laughing so hard that I can hardly stand up, and Hayden is too.
“What do we do now?” Basil asks, wide eyed.
“We go out and party.”
I breathe in deeply as I wake up from my dozing. Hmm . . . I have to get back to my room.
I have a naked woman under each arm, our legs entwined in the sheets. It was a good night.
I needed that.
I stir, and they both cling to me. “Where you going?” one whispers.
“Home.” I sit up and climb out of bed and smile as I watch them both fall back to sleep. I bend and kiss them each on the cheek and run my hand over their naked hips.
Hot.
I make my way back to the hostel and get into the shower; the hot, steamy water runs over my head, and I soap myself up as I wash them off me.
I’m exhausted. It’s been a very long day.
I sneak into my room to find Kimberly in my bed.
What?
The fuck is she doing here? This isn’t her room.
Damn it, I would have stayed where I was if I’d known I didn’t have a bed back here. I look around the dark room. Fuck it. I’ll climb in with Grumps.
I slide in beside her and scooch under the blankets. Still asleep, she shuffles over with her back to me to make room. I roll on my side and put my arm around her from behind. I inhale the sweet scent of her hair and feel her curves under my arm.
And then, in bed with my favorite person in Spain, I feel myself finally relax.