The Three Gay Spaniards that weren´t

We had the best Saturday night.

My roommate and I told our señora that we were going out for dinner, and we bought some bread and cheese along with some cheap wine to enjoy by the river. We were meeting three other girls from our group, and so we staked out a spot, dangling our legs over the edge.

So here's the deal on drinking in public in Sevilla. A law was passed about a year ago mandating that drinking in the streets is no longer allowed. As was explained to me, kids as young as 12 were drinking in the streets, making lots of noise all night, and leaving poor impressions on tourists. So the law was passed. But it only applies to places where people live, or in front of open doors and business, etc. So there are certain areas where you can still drink legally. And, I was told, one of those places is by the river.

So we're doing just that, and then a party arrived. About 20 Spanish kids - they looked like they were in high school - show up and start drinking and hanging out by the river. One of them tried to talk to us, but he was too intoxicated to even speak Spanish well. Ooooh geez.

Well, those guys left after finishing their pre-gaming, and two other Spanish guys came along and said hola. I started making small talk with them (in spanish, of course) and they asked if they could sit down. Sure, I said. We chatted for awhile, they were from Granada but are working as mechanics in Sevilla now. One of them, Jorge, started to explain to me the differences in flamenco dancing between Sevilla and Granada. It was really interesting.
Then one of the girls from our group called Jorge "Jorge Curioso el mono" or Curious George the monkey. I don't really know why, but it was hilarious. And she called his friend "El hombre en el sombrero amarillo" or the man in the yellow hat. And they thought that was great, the two of them laughed so hard. And then the man in the yellow hat wanted to know if this guy from the Curious George books was handsome.
"Of course he is!" I told him.

We moved on, saying goodbye to our new friends..."¿Besos?" (Kisses?) Jorge asked me. (In Spain, friends, even new friends, great each other with a kiss on each cheek)
"¿Besos de amigos, verdad?" (Friendly kisses, right?) I responded and took on the Spanish tradition.

Then we went to an Irish pub that we like on Calle Betiz, which is a street with bunch of clubs and bars where Spaniards hang out.
There, we met up with three Spanish guys we had met through our university. One of them, David, had been our tour guide, and he and I had exchanged numbers during orientation. (He is leaving to study in England this year).
Well, at orientation, he introduced his friend Samuel as his partner. So it gets around our study abroad group that he's gay, he's got a partner, right?
We just weren't sure about his third friend, but he said something about hitting on guys or something, so we just figured.
They took us to another area where there are several discotecas (not clubs, because in Spain that means brothel) and we split up into two groups to get in (for some reason big groups have to pay to get into discotecas).
And it was PACKED. It was great, but so many people! At about 2am!
But we danced and danced - we were having a blast. Slowly the group splits up into the crowd of people, and I find myself dancing with David's partner.
And then he tried to kiss me.
Oh geez, THEY'RE NOT GAY!!!!
I back away and say to him in Spanish, hey, I haven't had enough to drink for that nonsense, buddy.
Poor guy. Gave him the shut down.
Then I spot one of the other girls I was with, Kate, dancing with David's other friend, and I make my way over to her. We look at each other and say, almost in unison, "They're not gay!"
Apparently the guy that Kate was dancing with also wanted to plant a big one on her, even after she told him that she has a boyfriend in the States. Then she told him that, all along, we had thought they were gay.
And so it all unravels...
"You thought we were GAY?!" the two friends exclaim with shocked expressions.
One of them told us it was the first time that anyone had ever called him gay. Probably not the best time to use the phrase "there's a first time for everything"!
"You think I was gay?!" David asks with wide eyes after walking up to us.
Well, yes kind of - that's what "partner" means in the US...we just didn't know.
By "partner" David had actually meant "classmate." The Spanish word can be translated either way.
They were embarrassed, and we were embarrassed, but everyone was laughing. Not long after that, we decided to call it a night...or a morning, being that it was about 5 am.
The guys were good sports about it though, and at the end of the night they hugged each other and said in English, "Goodnight pard-ner."
And altogether, I have to say, it was a very good night.