THE BAR

Hello my dear readers. I'm afraid I don't have any headline worthy news to report since the sensational exposition of my missing French student who was not really missing. So I will offer you a tasty vignette:

"Sharkeez"

Last night I went to Sharkeez, a sports bar and restaurant located in downtown Santa Barbara. Monday night is "International Night" and the foreign language school encourages students to attend the festivities and meet other students, dance, and have fun. The school has a deal with Sharkeez to allow entry to students under 21 until 10pm, which is nice for Europeans like my Daniel whose only night out on the town is Monday. He was telling me "It's so strange, man, to be in a bar and not have a beer." These guys are drinking in bars at the young age of 16. No hard liquor until 18, though!

I used to frequent Sharkeez a lot last year. It's nice to meet some of my students' friends and just hang out with the foreigners. I've made some good friends that way, like the French girls, Julie and Alizee. I never tire of hearing stories about other countries, cities, people. I've had the good opportunity to travel a bit in the last few years, so I can listen for what seems like forever with empathy and expressed interest in the stories of my traveling companions.

But allow me to present to you the star of this story, my French student, Michel (pronounced Me-Shell). At nine o'clock I entered the building, peering around at the smattering of foreigners here and there. At this table sits the Asians. Those ones look like Spaniards. Michel is at the back, sitting at a booth with not one, two or even five, but nine girls. Just Michel and the girls. This was after one day of school, mind you. Gorgeous French and Spanish girls. How does he do that?