When Life Whacks, Do You Play it Dead Like A Smacked Mozzie?

I went to bed smiling to myself after an amazing weekend--only to wake up to a floppy, flaccid Monday.

I played the first set of my new tennis life here in Spain, today, and lost 4-6.  Not so bad considering I was a bag of nerves at the start.  But, no.  It was particularly, especially frustrating when I successfully battled my jits and raced up from a 0-1 trail to lead 4-1, serving 40-0.  The tides turned suddenly and I ended up losing the match entirely. 4-6.  Whoo hoo!

I was so frustrated--partly because I let the set slip, and partly because I didn't know what went wrong.  How did I let it slip??  I went for fitness after that, and worked so hard on my jump rope after, I could hardly lift my hands up.  What went wrong what went wrong?

My housemate Kiko told me I just need more experience.  Just keep playing, Sarah.  Be patient!

Patience.  Yes, patience.

Later that evening I had a firm disagreement (to put it mildly) with an ill-mannered, asinine colleague of mine called Victor.  (For those of you who've been keeping in touch with my blog, he's the author of the "Shit-belts").

Victor has this amazing "insistence" of talking to me in Spanish in front of the kids, when I have told him many times before that I don't understand the language yet.  His insolence bears over to the point of cruelty, particularly when you realise he's doing it out of sheer maliciousness.  Case in point:

Victor: "Sarah!"

I look up as he walks to me and stops, full frontal.  Imagine a thick man my height, with a beard and small metal-rimmed rectangular spectacles. His arms are at his side and he is leaning slightly forward.

Victor: "Habrá una reunión para todos los niños a las nueve."


I give him a blank look.  A few seconds pass.  I frown slightly, tilting my head forward just to hear him better.

Me: "I'm sorry?"

Victor: "Habrá una reunión para todos los niños a las nueve."

I shake my head and smile.


Me: "I'm sorry Victor, I don't understand much Spanish.  What did you say?"

I know he speaks English, I have heard him before.  All this while, there are about six kids around us, lining up for dinner.  They are all looking at him, at me.  Victor continues to lean slightly forward, his arms poised slightly in a very subtle confrontational manner.

Victor: "Habrá una reunión para todos los niños a las nueve."

Me:  "I'm sorry,  I don't understand."

Victor: "Yah, but you have to learn how to speak Spanish, no??"
*****
I found out Victor later went up to another collegue after the incident and sniggered as he recounted the story. "Check it out, this is what I did to her."  

 He repeated it again today--again in front of kids I was having dinner with, and then went on to the next table and told the same colleague "I'm going to do it, and keep doing it to her.  The more she tells me she doesn't speak Spanish, the more I'm going to do it, more often and for longer periods of time."

Obviously when I found out I was amazed, disgusted and fucking annoyed.
Incredible!  Kiko tells me I should totally ignore him the next time--it would piss the living daylights out of his pea-witted brain.  You guys suggestions on what I should do?