What else could we possibly know about this lunch at El Ventorro (another restaurant that, like La Camarga, is now considered cursed by the powerful and blessed, ironically, by the common folk)?
The meal lasted four hours. For me, this is the relevant detail. A four-hour lunch means it wasn't with sparkling water. "Working" or "proposal" lunches, if they're diet-friendly—in one innBut where you order grilled fish with vegetables (The diminutive is necessary)—they last less time. "No, I won't make dessert, I'll just cut it up, I have to work..." There's another option, which is "the working breakfast." You meet up and eat, but a croissant. (Once again, the diminutive is necessary), because what you really have to do is work (or communicate something you've done, and to make it easier, you invite people over). A four-hour lunch means something, something very important: the secretary has... blocked The afternoon. This is precisely because it's already known that there will be sparkling wines, and some whiskey. We can't arrive at the Cecopio (or even at home) in too tipsy a state.
So, what else could we possibly know, what can we assume about this meal that lasted about half a workday? Why are we so interested in knowing if he accompanied the guest to the parking lot or not (which it seems he did)? Well, because, as you know, parking lots are a common sight after meals that drag on. Can we say it now? We're all thinking about the only thing missing for the ignominy to be complete. It would also require some kind of sexual incident. But if it were confirmed that on that horrible and dramatic day, with young and old drowning, there was indeed some kind of sexual matter, no one should worry. They would still vote for the individual. He wouldn't resign.
