Oia’s Atlantis Books felt a lot like Danny’s house in Tortilla Flat. Granted, nobody was Latino. And, despite Craig’s attempts to hide it from the locals, there were at least 3 Jews living under one roof. Nevertheless, the collection of characters lured to the store’s winter headquarters by the promise of a roof over their head and a jar of wine seemed a lot like Steinbeck’s Post World War I Monterrey.
We would collect (or steal?) hundreds of pounds of marble without anything close to a plan of what to do with the marble. We knocked down a wall and then asked ourselves, “Why did we knock down this wall? And is the structure still sound?” Some would say this is irresponsible. I say it’s carefree.
Then there were the dogs. I don’t know if I’d call either Tim or Maria “Pirate,” but they had a decent coterie of dogs following them nearly all the time. I had a brief affair with Athena. I still dream about her. Someday we will be reunited.
I arrived with a giant bag full of treats for Craig and Chris. There was a nice pair of khakis, a tape of the Super Bowl, barbeque sauce, and other delights that are unavailable in Oia. Despite the size of the bag, I traveled with carry-on only. Craig was impressed.
I learned all about Greek contracting. One doesn’t paint the walls. One puts asvesti on it. Similarly, a new floor isn’t a floor. It’s Patito. Finally, Craig Walzer translates to Greg Walters.
Speaking of Walters, I saw his cock. It was a typical jew cock. And while the cock didn’t surprise me, the swimming naked caught me off guard initially.
I finally got to meet Chris too. Boy do I know what he means.
Anyway, back to Monterrey. Much like Danny’s bums, there was a healthy kinship between everyone crowded under that one roof in Oia. You don’t see that very often…especially not in a Law School in the United States. I appreciated meeting everyone. They’ve really got a good thing going there. I hope to be back again.