Sedaris, David - Happy-Go-Lucky by Sedaris David

Author:Sedaris, David [Sedaris, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2022-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

Sometimes our driver will act as a guide. This was the case in Lisbon, the only Western European city Patsy and I have visited together. We had a list of stores we wanted to go to, but at the end of every block, the driver, who was nearing seventy and was named Carlos, would pull over, saying, “David, I want you to look out your window to the left. There you will see a monument to Miguel Pouza, who was the first captain of tall ships to be presented to our queen in 1612. Next to him you will notice…”

Oh my God. I thought. Is this really happening?

“David and Patsy, I want you to get out of the car and cross the street. Look between those two buildings, and when you come back, I want you to tell me what you have seen.”

At one point he showed us a bullfighting arena that had been turned into a mall. “As bad as people think it was, we never killed the bull in public view, the way they do in Spain. Instead, here in Portugal, we would do it backstage.”

“Americans think that bullfighting is savage and backward, but if you could do it with firearms we’d probably be all over it,” I said. “Can you imagine? The bull would be released and someone with a sawed-off shotgun would blow its front legs off.”

Patsy can’t bear to hear things like this. She’s a vegetarian and won’t even watch a movie if it has a weapon in it. Carlos, meanwhile, continued with his tour. “David, look straight ahead. Do you see those tiles?”

I noticed that he said oosh-ul-lee rather than usually. Beach was bitch, as in “Live in this mansion and you could have your own private bitch!”

“I do not care about your bitches,” I wanted to tell him. “Or your churches or your famous sites. All I care about are your stores, so how about you just button your lip and drive me to the one I read about that sells the wax models of human intestines?”

I long ago stopped feeling bad about my interests. History? Give me a break! Culture? Yawn. Take me to the nearest supermarket!

When it came to drivers, I much preferred Ion’s style. After a night in Bucharest, he collected Patsy and me at our hotel and drove us to Transylvania. As we got under way, I told him about a Frenchman I knew who often came to Romania to hunt.

“Yes, well, we have the biggest bear population in Europe,” he said. “Sixty percent of them live right here, along with many foxes, boars, and lynxes, which are savage cats!”

The road we were on was lined on either side by grim cinder-block houses, which looked even worse beneath the heavy, pewter-colored sky. Villagers bundled in cheerless coats stood where the curbs would be if there had been curbs, some selling colossal onions and others staring mournfully into the oncoming cars.

“Do they want rides?” Patsy asked.

“Yes,” Ion said.

“Feel free to pick someone up,” I said.

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