Day 279: After-lunch Drinks Before an Argentina Match

(At the counter of a bar. Behind the bar stands a barman with a shaved head except for the crown, from which hangs a long ponytail.
The protagonists are waiting to order.
Nacho speaks with an Argentine accent, and José Antonio with an Andalusian one.)

Mario. – Excuse me…
Nacho. – He’s not listening.
Mario (shouting). – Excuse me!

(The barman gives them a dirty look, busy doing something)

Eugenio. – Nacho, get me an orujo.
José Antonio. – Do they even have orujo here?
Mario. – Let’s see if they serve us…
Eugenio. – Nacho, ask if they’ve got orujo.
Nacho. – Doubt it, have a Jägermeister instead.
Eugenio. – A Jägermeister? Oh well… not quite the same though…
Nacho. – Fancy a cigar? That’ll complete the after-lunch ritual…
José Antonio. – Mate, I want a radler…

(The barman starts washing glasses in a glasswasher, but another waitress comes over, her face full of piercings and her hair dyed violet)

Waitress. – What can I get you?
Eugenio (quietly). – Look at the state of her!
Mario. – Yeah… well… we’d like… umm… two beers…
Waitress. – Which ones?
Mario. – Freiberger.
Mario (with an exaggerated German accent). – FRAI–BEEER–GAH…
Waitress. – Alright, got it. (The other barman starts pouring them) Anything else?
Mario. – Yes, a radler.
Nacho. – And a Jägermeister.

(Alex enters, carrying a football fan’s trumpet. He sneaks up behind them unseen)

Alex (blowing the trumpet). – ¡¡¡¡PPBBYUUUUUUU!!!!
Eugenio. – You bastard!
José Antonio. – Bloody hell, what a fright!

(The bar staff glare at them)

Alex. – Have you ordered yet?
Nacho. – We’re on it.
Alex. – I want a beer.
Mario. – Another fraibeergah… please.
Waitress. – Would you like to pay all together or separately?
Nacho. – Separately, please.

(Each one pays, takes their glass, and exits the scene)

(On the bar terrace, all the actors are sitting around a foldable wooden garden table)

Alex (with the trumpet). – ¡¡¡¡PPBBYUUUUUUU!!!!
José Antonio. – Mate, tone it down a bit…
Mario. – What time’s the match?
Eugenio. – In half an hour.
Nacho. – ARGENTINA! ARGENTINA!
Eugenio. – Anyone want to try the Jägermeister?
Alex. – Pass it here.
Eugenio. – Did you see the Germany–Poland match? The Germans are finished.
Nacho. – Yeah, they struggled even to beat Costa Rica.
José Antonio. – Have you seen how they follow the matches? It’s so weird.
Alex. – Yeah…
José Antonio. – They’re so square… once there’s football, they drop everything for it, hang flags out of their windows, repaint the trams, cancel lessons. Germany stops!
Mario. – That’s another German myth that’s fallen for me! I thought Germans were responsible and hard-working, that nothing would tear them away from a job… but at the slightest event…
Eugenio. – They drop everything!
José Antonio. – Exactly! Doesn’t matter if they’re a uni professor or an ambulance driver, they all drop everything for football.
Alex. – But it’s the same in Spain. When Spain plays a World Cup match, the streets are empty.
Mario. – Yeah… but there’s a little difference! In Spain we all know that when the national team plays a World Cup match, everyone’s going to watch it, or at least follow it from work on the radio or something. The difference is that the Germans go on and on about their efficiency, their responsibility, their work ethic… but they’re just the same!
Nacho. – Or worse! Because it’s not just the World Cup — it was the Buntesrepublik, this festival, that one… and it’ll be the city festival, the basketball World Cup…
Eugenio. – And Schumacher.
Alex. – Alright, stop going on about the Germans and let’s go somewhere to watch the match.

(A marquee set up behind the university. There’s a giant screen showing the Argentina–Serbia match. Many foldable tables set up in neat rows. The actors are in the front row, half of them wearing Argentina shirts or at least something light blue. Nacho is wearing an Argentina shirt and a very long Argentina flag tied around his neck. To his right is a group of Serbs with a flag over their laps.)

Mario. – It’s so empty! I thought it’d be packed…
José Antonio. – What a tiny Serbian crowd. Just a handful…
Alex. – And half of them are German…
Mario. – Just like us! We’ve only got one actual Argentine.
Eugenio. – Nacho, hang your flag next to the screen.

(Nacho takes the flag from his neck and hangs it next to the screen)

TV Commentator. – GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAALLLL!
Serbs. – dođavola…
Nacho (jumping across the tables). – GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAALLLL!
Eugenio. – The Argentines are on fire! They’ve scored 3 in no time.
Mario. – Uff… The match is over. I think I’m going to go — not in the mood for this.
José Antonio. – Do you have to do a protocol?
Mario. – Yeah.
Eugenio. – Another one?
Mario. – Yeah. One of the last ones. I want to do it perfectly so the lecturers can’t give me a bad mark. I’m sick of being marked below the Germans just for being an Erasmus student.
Eugenio. – Well, good luck then.
Mario. – Right! Bye!
All. – Tschüss!

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