Once upon a time there was a girl in a new city in a new apartment. She was getting along nicely and slowly starting to adjust, but there was one problem: she had allowed her apartment to become void of food. The evening of this realization came and went and dinner was scarce so after this particular early bird slept in to an hour for which she was very, very proud her stomach demanded she immediately go on a quest for food. Since the grocer is just a block or two she didn’t think she could argue so she quickly obliged.
Walk, walk, walk…tummy rumble, tummy rumble…walk…rumble…
A rant and a rave and – let’s be honest- a few choice words later, the girl in a new city decides to try the other nearby grocer. Surely it was a simple matter that in selecting convenience of location she visited the store that didn’t have the longer hours of a bigger corporation, so off to the bigger one she went.
Walk, walk, walk…huff and puff….rumble, rumble….walk…rumble… profanity…walk.
Now, based on events one might think that this was quite early, perhaps 07.00 or maybe even 08.00. But no. No, not at all!
People I’m talking 09.30 in the morning — not 07.00! not even 08.00! 09-freaking-30! Does everyone have to be up at 09.30 in the morning? No. Spain does not embrace mornings as many do. While sad, I am learning to make amends about this. But this! This having no available services until more than midway through one’s morning is insane. When did 09.30 transform into the crack of dawn?! Based on the looks received from all the sanitation workers you would have thought I was doing the walk of shame (no wait, that’s not possible – those people weren’t up yet!). No, no, not the case! Just a girl trying to get a barra de pan!
How can it be that a store – any store!- isn’t even open until 10.00 on Sunday? You must be kidding.