El día que Ramiro se licenció, cumplidos los catorce meses reglamentarios de servicio, el sol brillaba con tanto esplendor en el cielo, que Maruja pensó que una aparición mariana la anunciaba la inminencia de su boda. Fue como una especie de presagio, en el que intervino, para no variar, la férrea determinación de don Antón cuando, con la excusa de celebrarlo como Dios manda, los invitó a tapear en Chicote.
Perico Chicote era, en opinión de Maruja, un hombre que no destacaba tanto en su faceta de barman, como en su evangelizadora labor franquista, defensor a ultranza de los valores tradicionales del Movimiento y los buenos consejos que, por supuesto, siempre resultaban gratuitos.
Antiguos camaradas, don Antón y él constituían sendas reliquias de un régimen obsoleto que se estaba deshaciendo bajo los efectos del terremoto social demócrata que estaba penetrando en España a través de la apertura de fronteras, una vez fallecido el Caudillo, por quien se guardó luto en casa, como correspondía a tan ilustre personalidad. Así lo demostraba el crespón negro colocado sobre el cuadro colgado en el sitio de honor del comedor.
Dejando a un lado todo tipo de ambigüedades políticas para las que ella no había sido educada ni preparada, Maruja no dejaba de reconocer que Perico Chicote era un hombre que poseía una interesante imaginación y no la sorprendería tampoco que fuera capaz de maravillar a un genio. Tuvo una sólida constancia de ello cuando observó la facilidad intrínseca con la que mezclaba los licores, hasta alcanzar el cóctel definitivo, al que bautizaba con el primer nombre que se le ocurría y después olvidaba inmediatamente. Solía hacer este tipo de demostraciones con la gente famosa que frecuentaba su bar-museo –la colección de botellas que exhibía en las estanterías era conocida en el mundo entero por su originalidad-, y rara era la ocasión en la que no había un personaje relevante codeándose con la gente más vulgar, en una curiosa mezcolanza de escalafones sociales no apta para susceptibilidades a flor de piel.
Tal vez influenciado por la gratuidad de los consejos de Chicote, don Antón tuvo la brillante inspiración de alentar a Ramiro con sugerencias de matrimonio encaminadas a hacerle comprender que la gloria del hombre se encontraba, no en los cielos, como se suele pensar, a la derecha de Dios y junto a Jesucristo, sino en la sólida cimentación de los pilares del sagrado sacramento del matrimonio, como así se reflejaba en la Ley Fundamental de Principios del Movimiento, dictada por Franco a sus ministros.
Para entonces, Maruja había enrojecido, íntimamente avergonzada. Pero aun así, se sintió incapaz de reprimir una mirada de soslayo, precisamente de ese tipo de miradas que suelen valer más que mil palabras y son tan precisas como una medalla de oro en la categoría de tiro olímpico.
Bien es cierto, también, que Maruja pensó en la posibilidad de que Ramiro creyera que se le estaba tirando el lazo y frente a aquélla pésima circunstancia, experimentó una sensación de congoja que ocultó con nubes negras ese sol bienaventurado que tan buenos presagios la había transmitido desde por la mañana temprano y frente al cuál su corazón se había expandido como el espíritu santo sobre la cabeza de los desesperados israelitas que huían de la ira del faraón, si había de hacer caso a las referencias bíblicas.
The day Ramiro graduated, having completed the statutory fourteen months of service, the sun shone with such splendor in the sky that Maruja thought that a Marian apparition announced the imminence of her wedding. It was like a kind of omen, in which, not to vary, Don Antón's iron determination intervened when he, with the excuse of celebrating it as God intended, invited them to have tapas in Chicote.
Perico Chicote was, in Maruja's opinion, a man who did not stand out so much in his facet as a barman, as in his evangelizing Francoist work, staunch defender of the traditional values of the Movement and good advice that, of course, was always free.
Former comrades, he and Don Antón were relics of an obsolete regime that was unraveling under the effects of the social democratic earthquake that was penetrating Spain through the opening of borders, once the Caudillo died, for whom he mourned in home, as befitted such an illustrious personality. This was demonstrated by the black crepe placed on the picture hanging in the place of honor of the dining room.
Leaving aside all kinds of political ambiguities for which she had not been educated or prepared, Maruja did not fail to recognize that Perico Chicote was a man who possessed an interesting imagination and it would not surprise her if he was capable of astonishing a genius. She had a solid record of it when she observed the intrinsic ease with which he mixed the spirits, until reaching the final cocktail, which she baptized with the first name that occurred to her and then promptly forgot. He used to do this type of demonstration with the famous people who frequented his bar-museum -the collection of bottles that he exhibited on the shelves was known throughout the world for its originality-, and it was rare that there was not a relevant character. rubbing shoulders with the most ordinary people, in a curious mixture of social ladders not suitable for skin-deep sensitivities.
Perhaps influenced by the gratuity of Chicote's advice, Don Antón had the brilliant inspiration to encourage Ramiro with marriage suggestions aimed at making him understand that the glory of man was found, not in the heavens, as is usually thought, at the right of God and together with Jesus Christ, but on the solid foundation of the pillars of the sacred sacrament of marriage, as reflected in the Fundamental Law of Principles of the Movement, dictated by Franco to his ministers.
By then, Maruja had blushed, intimately ashamed. But even so, she found herself unable to repress a sidelong glance, precisely the kind of glance that is usually worth a thousand words and is as precise as a gold medal in the Olympic shooting category.
It is also true that Maruja thought about the possibility that Ramiro believed that the noose was being pulled and faced with that terrible circumstance, she experienced a feeling of anguish that hid with black clouds that blessed sun that had transmitted such good omens to her. since early morning and in front of which his heart had expanded like the holy spirit over the heads of desperate Israelites fleeing the wrath of Pharaoh, if the biblical references were to be heeded.
Preámbulo / Preamble: https://hive.blog/writing/@juancar347/spn-eng-cuentame-que-os-paso-novela-preambulo-tell-me-what-happened-to-you-novel-preamble
Capítulo 1 / Chapter 1: https://hive.blog/writing/@juancar347/spn-eng-cuentame-que-os-paso-capitulo-1-tell-me-what-happened-to-you-chapter-1
Capítulo 2 / Chapter 2: https://hive.blog/writing/@juancar347/spn-eng-cuentame-que-os-paso-capitulo-2-tell-me-what-happened-to-you-chapter-2
Capítulo 3 / Chapter 3: https://hive.blog/writing/@juancar347/spn-eng-cuentame-que-os-paso-capitulo-3-tell-me-what-happened-to-you-chapter-3
Capítulo 4 / Chapter 4: https://hive.blog/writing/@juancar347/spn-eng-cuentame-que-os-paso-capitulo-4-tell-me-what-happened-to-you-chapter-4
Capítulo 5 / Chapter 5: https://hive.blog/writing/@juancar347/spn-eng-cuentame-que-os-paso-capitulo-5-tell-me-what-happened-to-you-chapter-5
AVISO: Tanto el texto, como las fotografías que lo acompañan, son de mi exclusiva propiedad intelectual y por lo tanto, están sujetos a mis Derechos de Autor.
NOTICE: Both the text and the accompanying photographs are my exclusive intellectual property and therefore are subject to my Copyright.
lovely bottles - dusty, vintage, bleak! 🤩
In short: a little treasure.
not so little :)))))
!BEER
Ha ha ha... you're right. I forgive the Cinzano, because I have always preferred the one on tap, but the Whiskey and the bottles of Cariñena wine, if they haven't turned sour, must be delicious. Thank you very much for the beer and best regards.
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