The Spanish Spotlight (LSD, #4)

9. Talk Is Cheap

Talk Is Cheap

"You! Were! Awesome!"

Manel, the host of the show, has trouble finding words that express his emotions. Or perhaps his Spanish is better than his English, as he goes on in Spanish, telling the audience what they just saw, telling the jurors what they just saw, letting the jurors express in Spanish what they just saw, until even Chelsea (whose Spanish isn't muy muy bien) believes this was the best act since the show started, seven years ago.

I know it's not like that. TV is an act. It's all show. This leaks water everywhere. Deep inside, everybody probably feels depressed about the complete failure, but they sell it as we've all just witnessed a miracle on ice. Never mind. It's all water under the Stamford Bridge now. It's useless to look back and think about everything that went wrong; we have to move on and make sure we'll do better next time.

Serena puts her dripping hand on Chelsea's soaking shoulder, hugs her, and whispers: "You were wonderful. We're a great team."

That's easy for her to say. Serena is a natural black. Her beauty stays on her face; no sweat or involuntary swimming can change that. Chelsea suffers from the low budget, low quality LSD make-up that makes her look like a drowned Kung Fu panda with freckles. It's amazing that, under these circumstances, she still smiles. Spotlights have that effect on people. The show must go on, and the show does go on, so we say goodbye. With applause, we return to the dressing room, for a towel and some soap, to make her decent again. I check my watch. We have to hurry.

On her way to the towel, Chelsea licks her lips: "That water tastes salty."

I explain: "It's a new technique. Chlorine harms our environment. They use sea salt to keep the pool water clean. Sea salt also clears the skin of acne. A dip in the sea is best, of course. For some reason I never understood, it has to be an early dip, before breakfast. A daily sea bath makes your acne disappear in less than a week. Look at my face. I don't have acne because I take a swim every morning."

"In December? Are you crazy?"

"Beauty has its price, dear. If you want to be beautiful, you have to do what it takes. Once you're in the water, it isn't cold anymore, and «brave» is my middle name."

Ten minutes later, Chelsea returns from the dressing room, playing with her imPhone: "Did you see this, Arse? I have 500.000 followers on my Facebook!"

"Nice, but right now, we don't have time for that. We have to hurry. If we want you to be successful, we have no time to lose. Get into the car. Sevilla is our next stop. They're waiting for us."

I drive off and hope that #2, The Nerd, has arranged for the local police to look the other way during the 0,1 second we pass them. The tight schedule for our afternoon and evening events doesn't allow us to respect speed limits. The world is in danger and I still haven't found out if that maximum speed from the folder is just a fake argument to sell this car. Never trust an Italian, they say, but when the needle on the dashboard passes the promised 280kph while the wheel feels still steady, I smile and think...

Half a million followers on her Facebook?

"What did you just say?"

"I said I have half a million followers on my Facebook. Five. Hundred. Thousand. Isn't that awesome?"

Awesome is that you can still hear what your passenger shouts when this car goes so fast.

"Why are we driving so fast?", Chelsea shouts.

She's right. This is crazy. Fun, but crazy. I slow down to 220. We have time enough. This isn't a mission to give me my best-day-ever; it's to please Chelsea. She doesn't seem comfortable when we go that fast. Also: we should talk. Show and tell.