Friday night was a party at a friend’s which was all fun and games ’til someone threw a Christmas tree on the bonfire. Then it was still fun and games except now we all smelled like burned evergreen and the fire department was on the way.
Today I had the day off and should have used it to catch up on much-needed sleep but instead my cousin and I ventured out to a small, predominantly Greek town on the beach about half an hour north of here. We ate lunch and listened to tinny greek music in a seashell parking lot and then…
And then we went to the sponge museum.
The sponge museum deserves its own paragraph because it is one of the most amazing places realistically possible as it is actually a sponge shop slash museum, complete with scary mannequins with informative plaques under them, dressed up as important figures in sponge history. The museum even has its own little theatre which shows– over and over all day long– a brief (read: long) informative documentary on sponges.
The video started out with this guy in the early 90’s reading cue cards that were cleverly hidden (read: not hidden) behind the giant sponge he was holding. He taught us about different kinds of sponges and the history of sponges and why sponges are awesome. This was followed by a video from the 1950’s demonstrating the newest (read: really old) diving technology.
Right in the middle of the video, in a transition that I’d be hardpressed to describe as seamless, was what must have been an early attempt at subliminal messaging. It was a sudden and unexplained musical montage of people using sponges for various daily tasks with a chorus singing in the background: “Sponges! You need sponges! Need! Need! Need! Sponges for your car, sponges for your baby, sponges for your bath, sponges! Sponges! Sponges! Need! Need! Buy! Buy! Need!” and then returned, again seamlessly (read: full of seams), to our regularly scheduled outdated documentary. When the film was over and the proprietor asked how we enjoyed it, we did our best zombie impressions and replied: “Must. Buy. Sponges. Must. Buy.”
And then we did buy sponges. That’s the sad part of this story. I don’t remember how it happened exactly but somehow we both walked out with bags full of them.
After the sponge museum extravaganza, we went to a little Greek bakery with a screen-door and hot Greek boys playing cards on the porch and small Greek children running amok inside. We bought a slice of cake and a bowl of chocolate mousse and, because we’d already bought a bottle of wine, my cousin had the foresight to ask for two empty cups. So we headed down to the beach where we realized that although we’d asked for cups, we’d failed to ask for forks or spoons, so we drank very good room temperature Pinot Grigio out of styrofoam cups and ate cake and chocolate mousse with our bare hands and watched the sunset. It was really nice until we realized that we’d also forgotten to ask for napkins.