The Outing

The outing It was a sunny Sunday we drove to a park that has an old house in the middle selling paintings some of them are good but mostly plenteous crap, I know enough about art to see the difference. Naturally, the place was closed since it was Sunday. But going up a ramp to the park a driver buzzed his horn they do that a lot in Portugal I told the driver what I thought My wife said I was rude; she can be friendly to everyone get waitresses to tell their banal sob story. She- my wife-enjoyed herself thoroughly going in and out of small shops selling things, she couldn`t possibly afford. On the terrace of a posh restaurant sat to women eating Meat on skewer drinking white wine looking like expensive prostitutes or solicitors, but they were not alone many suited men drank too, and I wondered how the hell they can drive after this. I bought a pure hot dog but could the ers get it right, filled it with all sort of 6.50, please. off, all I wanted was a bloody hot dog at 2.50. Sat on a wall waiting; finally, she declared it had been a fine outing and I drove her home.