Madridiots (Or: Spain-ger Danger!)

Before leaving Madrid, John and I wanted to check out the local gay scene.  Because gaaaaay.

I had already been to a bar called Gris on a solo mission, but John had was unconscious. He seemed to be feeling better, so we decided to behave like the local Madridians and began our night at 2AM.

 Obviously, this was a great choice.

John and I had no real plan--the information available online was confusing and annoying; A lot of people have a lot of opinions about a lot of things--and bitchy gay dudes bitching about gay bars is apparently an international pastime.

We opted to just head to the gay-borhood without a plan and just sort of see what trouble we could find.

As John and I were yapping away taking in the sights...

...catching up...

...enjoying our lives...

...not a care in the world...

...two very large young guys approached us and asked us, in English, where we were going.

I immediately panicked.  Were they pickpockets?   Kidnappers?  Or worse--club promoters?!

John told them we weren't sure where we were going, while I responded in my normal fashion when confronted with danger:  Avoid eye contact and walk faster.  But because they were incredibly tall, one normal step for them were like five of mine, so I'm not sure if they even noticed that I was trying to run away.

The two potential Spanish Bandits were trying their best to act friendly--asking where we were from and what we were doing in Madrid.  Harmless chatter to the untrained eye...but I sensed this was a more sinister ploy to figure out how long it would be until someone realized we were missing.

They told us that they both lived in LA at one point, though one was Venezuelan (he lives in Madrid now) and the other was visiting from New York--but is originally from Mexico.

I began to suspect that we were dealing with highly sophisticated international organ thieves.

When they heard that we didn't know where to go in Madrid, they offered to take us to their favorite bars. Obviously we were dealing with sociopaths.

We followed them into the first bar they recommended, and the Tall Ones began to enact their plan almost instantly.  "Let's go somewhere else," they shouted angrily.  Well, I assume angrily--it was quite loud... and while it was entirely possible they were yelling because it's the only way we'd hear them...I think it's safe to say they were agitated.

Frightened, we agreed and left with them.  I took a look around the place, wondering if any of these people would remember seeing us leaving with the Gigantés when our missing persons posters started to pop up all over town.

On our way to the next bar, I flat out asked: "Are you guys murderers?"  I just wanted to know, and I figured if we were all on the same page, perhaps they would show us mercy.

Luis the Venezuelan simply laughed and said: "Have you ever seen Dexter?"

Oh god.

I was trying to conserve power on my phone in case I ended up in a trunk somewhere, so there aren't a lot of photos of the night.

I did manage to take one of the Venezuelan during one of our stops...

...his friend was more elusive, but also had murder in his eyes.

Artistic Rendering!

Around 3:30AM, the Marauding Matadors planned their next move:  An After Hours Club.

Now, I normally wouldn't follow two strangers anywhere, let alone to a second, third or, in this case, unprecedented fourth location.

But we were drunk and, frankly, looking forward to death.  (At least I was...)

They lured us out of the bar and took us down a super quiet street--all as I held tightly onto the key to the AirBNB apartment.  If they were going to attack, I was going to stab the stab right out of their eyes!

We entered the mysterious club, where Spanish pop music was blasting.  They ordered drinks for us--including water "to stay hydrated."

And while he didn't say "...during our long torture session," I think it was clear to everyone within earshot that's what he meant.

At one point, a person came over to hit on the Venezuelan, who shooed him away, saying "I am not here to flirt, I'm here to hang out with my friends!"   His other, taller friend agreed:  "We love you guys!"

I've never been more frightened in my life.

The rest of the night is kind of a blur, but John and I did manage to escape--though we are both clearly traumatized by the incident.

Luckily, we're safely out of Madrid now and in Seville...where more perils await!