"Throw your hands up if you love clubbing in Madrid!"
Americans do a lot of stupid things. We drive inefficient cars, eat fatty foods and even listen to Dave Matthews Band. But, by far and away, the stupidest thing we do is clean the house the night before the cleaning ladies are supposed to come.
In our house, the cleaning ladies come on Thursdays. So every Wednesday evening I get the same speech from my mom. “They’re not here to clean up your clutter. They’re here to vacuum and wipe the bathroom and sweep the dust out from under the radiator.” Listen, Mom, you don’t have to tell me. I’m scared shitless of the cleaning ladies.
Seriously, I feel more motivated to impress the cleaning ladies than pretty much anyone else on Earth. I mean, I’ve failed my fair share of exams in school, and I have absolutely no problem walking into class the next day and facing the teacher. But if the cleaning ladies were to walk into my bedroom and see clothes on the floor and empty Coke cans on my nightstand, I honestly don’t know what I would do with myself. I can’t even tell you the number of times I’ve woken up on a Thursday morning and shoved everything into my closet right before heading to school. Just the thought of them judging me in a foreign language is too much for me to live with. It’s like I can’t even defend myself.
But you know who wouldn’t get all worked up about the cleaning ladies coming? The Spanish, that’s who. Because the Spanish don’t give a fuck. In fact, they might be the laziest people I’ve ever met in my entire life. No wonder their economy is a sinking ship right now. It’s cause they go to the office for like 3 hours and then leave so they can go watch some soccer, eat some tapas and drink Sangria in the Plaza. No chance in hell they would lift the slightest finger if they knew the cleaning ladies were coming the next day.
But there is one thing that the Spanish know how to do better than anyone else, and that’s party:
Here’s the difference between partying in the U.S. and partying in Spain. Say you’re out at a bar in Boston and the DJ plays a couple bangers in a row. Like “Bulletproof” and “I Want You Back,” or something like that. Got everyone dancing and having a good time and everything. Well, as soon as the second song ends, what automatically happens every single time? The DJ plays a Third-Eye Blind song because he knows everyone needs a breather. Most likely the “Jumper,” but occasionally you’ll get “How’s it Gonna Be” just to keep you on your toes. Because God forbid people dance for like three songs in a row without “mellowing out” for a bit.
Now take Madrid, for example. There’s like 1,500 people dancing their faces off at Joy at like 4:00 in the morning. Just Avicii and David Guetta for days. Then all of a sudden the DJ decides he’s going to play “Wonderwall” by Oasis. Not even kidding, not one person in the entire club knew what to do. Everyone just stood still and started looking around, waiting for someone to take the lead on this. I almost volunteered, but honestly I thought it was another one of those siesta things right in the middle of clubbing. Seems ridiculous, but they fucking love those siestas.
Fortunately, though, it turned out to be the only slow song of the entire night. Good thing too, because the line to dance with Dave Robb was literally out the door. I mean how can you resist that dance move where he acts like he’s a choo-choo train, speeding forward and then putting it in reverse? Like, it’s not an actual train, people. It’s just Dave!
We had to leave at like 5:00 am to ensure we caught our flight to Barcelona, but there were absolutely no signs of slowing down at Joy, even though it was a Thursday. But I guess in Spain it doesn’t matter if you have work, school, or the cleaning ladies coming, because life is a joke nobody does shit anyway.
