Hello everyone, here we are again, and this time I’m dedicating an entire entry to Marcos’s uncle. Why? You might ask. Because the guy was quite peculiar in every possible way—seriously.

First, Marcos’s uncle was a taxi driver, which wasn’t a problem in itself. The issue was that he fit the stereotype of the quintessential Spanish uncle: obsessed with football, a lover of women, and extremely patriotic—almost to a comical extreme.

Naturally, Marcos soaked up all the “positive” traits from his uncle and started spending a lot of time with him, mimicking his behavior.

Going out with Marcos and his uncle quickly became secondhand embarrassment central. (Yes, Sandra, I’ll mention how much it embarrassed you too, especially when he acted that way in front of you. He treated you like one of the guys and, when he went too far, you’d chase after him to give him a smack on the head.)

At the same time, though, it gave us fits of laughter. It was like a tragicomedy. For instance, the way he acted whenever women walked by—it was something to behold. He looked like a bull in heat.

As I mentioned before, Marcos became his uncle’s number-one fan. When he was with us, he wouldn’t stop praising his uncle to the point where it became insufferable.