Short Stories



Janette Davies

We all know how much the Spanish like to party and Voting Day is no exception.

We knew there would be lots of activity all time the school was open, so we decided to get in the midst of things and go at 11.

How right we were. To keep the rabble in order, there were two police cars – one outside the school gates and one on the inside by the steps. One policeman was at the bottom of the steps, kissing everyone he knew (namely everyone except us!) and the other was escorting an official looking woman, apparently suffering from with an unpleasant smell under her nose, who didn’t speak to anyone.

We had received all the bumf re the parties and their candidates through the post and knew who we were supporting. It was European as well as Local Elections so armed with two envelopes, Voting Card, Passport, Residente and NIE Papers, we battened down for the long haul.

Although incredibly hot in the small room, we only had one incident when a rather large woman, clutching her side, pushed through and collapsed onto a small table, mumbling “Calor!,Calor!”

As we neared the voting table, we could see the various representatives of all the parties. Slightly perturbed that our chap seemed to be asleep (must be an official requirement for such offices) and two elderly others were bobbing about aided by walking sticks, we decided to abide by our original choice. Not so for some of the others, who decided to grab another list of candidates and swap it for the one in their envelope.

Papers scrutinised by a pleasant young woman who called us Dav eye esss, we were ticked as present and correct and duly relieved of our envelopes.

PHEW! Now round to the bar for the real fiesta to begin.


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