It was a cold and cloudy December when our heroes set out to Liverpool and Manchester to soak up rain, beer & Beatles! It was 2008 and our friend Álvaro was living in Manchester, and although he would not be in the city these days, he invited us to stay at his house. Great, we thought ... but we didn't know what awaited us.
We arrived and of course, goodbye beer with Álvaro, handing over the keys, walks through the center, more or less cultural visits, I flipped to see the English in flip flops with snow (in honor of the truth we will say that there was sun ... but only missing a polar bear for god!) and busted we went home.
Discover which bus we have to take, catch it, follow the instructions to get to the urbanization, try not to kill yourself with the ice, avoid the dogs that want to try your hams, look for the house number and ta-dan! We have arrived… for what a weariness! We just wanted one thing: sleep warm.
Rober digs the key in his pocket, decided the handle and inserts it innocently in the lock without knowing that our life was in danger. The door opens, we enter ... mmm how good it is! And suddenly a BIP. And another, and another ... closer and louder, until at full volume it starts to sound: ninoninoninoninoninoninoninooo. THE ALARM!!!
Álvaro had not told us there was an alarm, and of course he had not given us the code to deactivate it: perfect!
With white faces and without knowing what to do we look at each other and all we can do is say tacos. Desperate we stayed at the door almost waiting for a divine solution, which does not come. So we enter and go up to the room, hopefully we can contact Álvaro, but that's it! Rober just changed the phone and we don't have his arg number! We tried to call Bea, our host's girlfriend, but she doesn't answer. What are we doing here ?!
And suddenly the worst happens: from the window we see a lantern illuminate the garden. My mother: the police! And we inside a house that is asking for help.
We take a breath, we kiss each other (to know if the jail is mixed!) And we start down the stairs as if we were going to the gallows. And there our judge awaits us: a man from Scotland Yard (okay it was a normal cop) and with a trembling voice and with spaninglish of the bad we tried to explain what had happened. The man, I don't know how, understands us and half funny half serious tells us to go to the room and not to move from there, that in a few minutes the alarm would stop sounding. In his sentence was missing "and you go to sleep without dinner" to have a masterful anger! He greets us and leaves ... he already has another story of scared pringadetes to tell in the pub.
The next day we got to talk to Álvaro ... who clearly breaks away, and reveals the secret code. That will remain secret. But not happy with this, the second night fully confident in the word of our dear friend, when we return home we enter the key, we open the door, the beep sounds, we approach to insert the key and ... the beep does not stop ringing !!! Can not be!
The Alarm starts to sound again. We want to die, we go out to the garden, we sit on the wall and wait for our cop friend to explain again that we are damn fucking. Luckily, suddenly a charitable soul from the house opposite appears, which is none other than Álvaro's roommate. Enter the code correctly and finally the alarm stops sounding.
We swear that we got the number Alvaro gave us well ... will this bastard have played it for us?
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