Berry Panic
/The difference between the pace of Spain and the pace of, say, New York, is always surprising. You’d think that after a couple years living in Madrid, the glorious pace of Spanish life would be old hat, but certain habits die hard. Habits such as, walking fast not because there is a rush but simply because you’ll get there earlier, ordering the check in the same breath as the coffee, and heading for the door as soon as the first goodbye is uttered. And so, with a checklist of to-dos ticking in my head one day after work, I began the dash home. The urgency was to get to the store around the corner from my apartment to buy a baking pan before the store’s 8pm close. (Note here for those in the US: Spanish working hours are a bit different than the American 5/6pm punch-out.)
It was a worried rush – those berries had been sitting in the fridge for days and they needed to be baked into a pie… or else. Berry panic, I tell you.
Hurrying up the street, careening around the corner, smack into the store where… yup, everything was calm. It was 8:10pm. There were plenty of people browsing kitchenware. (You know this type of store, the kind that whispers in your ear that you need a crazy egg cooker or specialty garlic peeler.) Old jazz was playing, three salespeople on the ready.
I have been to stores where they turn you away ten minutes before closing time unless you plead your case and promise to be out on the dot.
I head directly to the baking area. To my right is a couple looking at wine glasses. Stems or no? White or red? This or that? Taking their time. And finally I look up and take a breath. There was absolutely no need for a rush. The store door was wide open, the staff calm, there were plenty of other shoppers who would surely take longer with a purchase. So I grabbed a baking dish and then, rather than head to the counter to pay, I begin to browse.
I walked out of that store at 8:30pm, and much calmer than when I entered. Allow me to repeat… 30 minutes after closing time and there were still people wandering around the store. I also walked out with much more than a baking dish. Literally. Though, no egg cooker was purchased – some things can be learned in due time.
