Marcos

So fate has brought me together with a Spanish man. Here is the story:

Friday afternoon. enter Alex, the apartment mate, frantically saying something about Victoria, our Senora.

Alex: Katie! Oh no! Victoria just called me and told me that she is in Barcelona and that she wants me to come! I can't go to Barcelona and I think that she is mad at me!

Katie: uh?

Alex: She said that then I need to go to Acuna with her...did she call you?

Katie: uh?

Alex: Well, I will call her....

Katie is now thinking...who's gonna make me my dinner?! shoot!
Alex calls Victoria but her phone suddenly runs out of minutes...so Katie steps in and calls Victoria...(plot thickens)

Katie: Hola! Are you in Barcelona right now? You never said anything about leaving and we are a little confused.

Phone voice: Yes I am in Barcelona, working! I am going to Acuna and I am expecting you to come.

Katie: Uh....well, I am going to stay here this weekend because I have a class trip. I didn't know that you had a job. So....what about dinner...can we use food in the kitchen to make something?

Phone Voice: What! Where are you from, and where are you right now!

Katie: I'm at the house and I'm from the USA...awkward laugh...this isn't Victoria, is it.

Phone Voice: No!!! This is Marcos.

conversation ends in a frantic and extremely awkward apology...Katie now realizing that she asked a random man if she could eat the food in his kitchen.

Reflection:
Only I would manage to call a man and honestly believe that he was a my Spanish mother. Only my roommate and I would manage to put a random man's phone number in our phone book and label it Victoria. Really? really.

ps...I have no intention of pursuing a relationship with Marcos in the future.

pps...Victoria arrived safely at home 6 minutes later.