This past Good Friday, the Friday before Easter, I met Jesus. Yep, that’s right…Jesus!
Jesus from Barcelona bought me two shots of whiskey at a little jazz club on the corner of Calle Fernando Colon and Calle Pedro Lopez in Cordoba, Spain. He could barely speak English. I could barely speak Spanish. Yet, over the whisky and a lot of sign language, we became fast friends.
Yes! I got to be in Cordoba, Spain on a Good Friday courtesy of my now-rapidly dwindling savings account.
What put me in Cordoba, Spain on that early Good Friday morning?
Flipside of the Bikini 