Reflections on a Spanish bar

What is time? A fluid clock of weird contours? Time is not on the menu here. We come for coffee, used to the rigid lifestyle of waking up to the rest of the day, but end up with red wine and gorgeous tapas. Takes time to squeeze through and obtain them as everyone behind and opposite the bar are possibly relatives and the waiter is eager to spend quality time with two juicy blondes in red, short dresses. Or maybe Time is Wine with two letters wrong?

Cheers to TimeLessNess! Viva la Vida!