Sending my Ballot!!!

I just thought I would let you in on a secret.  I have a crush on the postman.  I just went in to mail my absentee ballot which was very exciting and there he was again, the post man who gave my flatmate his number.

This is funny because I read a book a couple years ago about getting out there and meeting people - not waiting for the Fedex man to show up at your door and fall madly in love. 

We don't have Fedex show up at our door, we have to walk the thirty minutes to the post office ourselves.  So going to the post office is a big part of our day that we have to plan out, once inside you have to take a number based on what you need to do, which 10% of the time push the wrong button and have to take a different number, elongating my dreaded stay in the post office.

Well, recently, there's been a postman who has only made me dread the trip for one reason, I lose every ability to speak spanish within me and try to leave as soon as I can.  And regardless of the number I get, I end up going to his window.  And there he is with his scruffy hair and blue eyes, and I turn on my natural smooth charm - don't speak a word of coherency and rush out!  Even when he's trying to personalize the conversation by asking about the envelope, where it's going, if it's important, and if I want to express it.  I know very tempting conversation starters, but still I'm left without words.

The problem is Castellón is a small town and whenever I'm out with friends, he's out as well in the same fantastic tapas and beer ally in the city center, or the club of great music where nobody dances, but makes little awkward eye contact.  

Sadly though my new flatmate, also from the states, just sent in her ballot as well, at the post office, but for her, and her inability to speak any word beyond 'hola' in spanish led her to speak to the man in English, which apparently was what he was looking for and her run to the post office ended with a ballot mailed and an exchange of phone numbers for 'tandem language exchanges'.  Which if you've lived in Spain for any length of time you know that language exchanges are code for international hook-ups.  

So much for the postman, Angel :)  apparently, showing up at the FedEx door isn't enough either.