!Rebajas!

REBAJAS is the word of the month in Madrid. Every store in town is having huge after-Christmas sales. With over 20% unemployment, the economy in Spain is worse than in the U.S. There are “Se Vende” and “Se Aquila” (For Sale and For Rent) signs all over the place; both commercial and residential. Still, the streets are abuzz with people rushing here and there. It’s a lot like the streets of New York in that regard, except the people don’t look burned out. People here are well-kept, generally well dressed, and seem to be happy. There are a lot of panhandlers and street performers though. While I was in a tiny, inexpensive restaurant yesterday, a panhandler came in and went to the two tables where people were sitting and asked for money. What was interesting, however, was that the manager didn’t shoo him out the door as he would have in the U.S. I watched him watch the beggar with compassion.

Last night Hector and I went to the most well stocked liquor store in Madrid: Madroño. The sales floor was small, but their stockroom must be enormous. Spaniards don’t drink a lot of gin; it’s more of an English-culture drink, but Hector and I both like gin. However, finding out that the poor boy had never had a gin martini, I realized that it was my American duty to rectify the situation at once. Madroño has over 100 different brands of gin! I didn’t know that there were 100 brands of gin in the entire world.
I bought some gin and vermouth, and Hector bought a bottle of wine and he started to head back home. I explained that it would be a sacrilege to drink a martini in a highball glass, so we headed to El Corte Ingles in quest of some inexpensive martini glasses. To my surprise we found the glasses for 3.20 Euros apiece, and while we were there, I picked up a jar of olives too. Back at home, I grabbed my iPod and mixed up the martinis, while Hector hooked up the iPod to his receiver. Fortunately, I had some 50s-60s Las Vegas-style lounge music on the iPod, and Hector and I spent the rest of the evening getting buzzed on martinis and listening to the likes of Ann Margaret, Frank Sinatra and Bobby Darin, as he tried to wrap his head around 20th century American culture. Fly me to the moon ….