Churros

A stolen churro moment

A couple of years ago, I headed on a 3 day solo yolo trip to wherever I could get a cheap flight somewhere sunny and ended up in Malaga in February. After a long winter with a significant bout of SAD, the idea of being outside in a light jacket was like sweet sweet nectar. No tights. The Vitamin D recharge was necessary. I stayed in in an AirBnB with a Swiss woman and her son. We had the idle chit chat you have with your hosts about what you’re doing and I overshared about being a real downward emosh spiral so I really needed to feel the sun on my face. It was a slow weekend.

Perks of solo yolo travel is moving at your own pace. I could eat as slowly or as quickly as I wanted. I was sitting outside in a light jacket, enjoying a cafe con leche and churros. If you don’t eat the local fried dough delicacy are you even living. TBH, I was taking my sweet f*cking time. It was a Sunday morning and all the locals were glammed up for mass so it was a prime people watching spot.

I was just half reading half watching the action on the street, when my last churro quickly disappeared from my plate. I looked up and saw a wee boy, around 5 or 6, running away with my churro. He turned around and waved at me, cackling with glee with his friend. He then split the churro with his friend and continued through the street with their stolen goods. I glanced around to see if anyone else had been witness to this violation but no, I was alone in my churro theft.

Had they been “scoping the scene” for long? Was it a dare? Did they do this every Sunday? Spot lone churro eaters and grab their last bite for kicks? I guess it was a significant friendship moment for them, sharing the stolen churro, but seriously, wtf, why did he steal the churro? I had nothing left on my plate or in my cup so I had no reason to keep this prime real estate and clear out for someone else. Maybe it was a scheme to get people to move on?

The rest of the weekend passed without much else going on. Got 2 glasses of wine drunk in an organic wine-bar after being off booze for 6 months and finished my book. Climbed up a hill to look at a fort. Dipped my toes in the sea. Felt the sun in my bones. I even got three extra freckles. BAM. I came back to work on Monday and regaled everyone with the story of the churro and pointed dramatically at my three extra freckles.

Now, a few years later, I wonder does the little lad remember the churro theft. Does he think about the person who’s churro he stole? Does he know the impact this event had on me? Is he the Fagin of pastry theft now, running a churro ring in Malaga? So many questions, so little churros.