That Time I Told a Cop My Name Was 'Travis Giovanni'

So, there's this strange law in Barcelona that lets you purchase a can of beer in the middle of the street from a guy that may or may not have a liquor license at any time of day, but you can't drink it in public.

Maybe it's for on-the-go people coming home from work who don't have the time to run into the convenience store. This might also cater to those impulsive buyers who create the demand for nail-clippers in the checkout area of grocery stores. While those demographics may represent a number of those purchasing beer from a street-corner, it's obvious that this marketing technique is for drunks and/or tourists. Being a tourist who happened to be drunk at the time, I bought four roadside beers.

Obviously, the next action we took was to open the cans, cheers and drink. About half-way through the third step, a police officer approached us and spoke to Greg in Spanish. Greg replied and gestured 'one more sip' with his index finger, but the cop did not oblige. Greg slowly moved the can to his lips and in one movement the cop snatched the can from Greg's hand and threw it into the garbage nearby, spilling the beer in the process. Marissa, who had yet to take a sip, followed this string of events by throwing her fresh cerveza into the trash as well. I, on the other hand, watched all of this as it happened and calmly took another sip. Seeing this, the cop approached me and like Greg, I asked him for one more sip, and again the cop did not oblige. He removed my beer from my hand in a similar fashion as he had done so for the previous belligerent American, then he reached for his notebook.

He spoke again to Greg, who was obviously our ringleader, and wanted to know all kinds of information like his name and where he was from. Greg, who began the conversation with the cop speaking near-perfect Spanish, now reverted to 'touristy' Spanish in an attempt for the cop to go easy on us. Greg told him his name was 'Jeffrey' something, and that he was staying in some non-existent hostel on the other side of the city. The policeman wrote this information down and turned to me. He asked me, in English, what my name was. At the same time, Greg and I responded to his question. I said 'Travis,' and Greg said 'Giovanni.' I repeated, 'Travis Giovanni,' as if saying the two names in succession would make it legitimate. We were then asked for identification. Unfortunately, we could not locate any ID on our persons, and he let us off with a warning.

It's a good thing he didn't notice the extra can of beer in Greg's pocket, because after that confrontation, we all needed a beer.