A Christmas Carol...

Since ages, I had promised to tell this story, so I am finally trying to do so… This happened to me some time ago, while I was living in Madrid and when I was not so skilled with the car (I do not claim to be Lewis Hamilton now for sure, but when I started with the car… well, let’s put it this way… I had certain difficulties)…

El Corte Inglés is the biggest department store in Spain and, in the capital city, Castellana is the biggest and the reference shop meaning that it is always fully packed! Well, to park in Castellana is always difficult, but when you try to do so during the Christmas period… then, any other thing you may want to do in this world is for sure easier! There is a parking space close to the entrance of the store where you can leave your car and actually pay a fortune for just a few minutes, but you accept it the way it is, and just pay! I tried to do so once during Christmas: organised and squared as I am, I had EVERYTHING planned in advance… getting there, parking in this place so close to the entrance and doing what I needed in just a very short time… all should have been perfect according to my scheme and planning… but it never is! Somehow, I missed the entrance of the parking and I entered in what I thought was actually the parking plot, to discover that I was in fact imprisoned in a one-car and one-way lane for taxis from which I could not escape! It is a kind of route of only one car width meant for taxis; taxis patiently follow it and advance a little bit averytime the taxi that is passing just in front of the store door collects a “victim” (or passenger). Who knows how I managed to enter this lane and miss the entrance for the parking???? Honestly, I have no clue!! It would have been much easier to meet Bruce Springsteen in an airport God knows where (something I would not mind at all, by the way), but the fact is that I finally ended up being caught in the middle of that queue from which I could not possibly escape! And really, now that I think about it, I have some problem with taxis, as most of my funny stories have happened with taxis in one way or the other… ok, I will not go into details as these will be posted sooner or later, I guess…

So, I was really disappointed on one side, but of course, I must admit I am quite used to these kind of situations, as my life seems to have been taken from a book (here, you should read “from a comic book”, of the “Bridget Jones Diary” or the like)… So, at this point, I evaluated my options: 1/ I start a career as a taxi driver in Madrid? Well, not really so attracted by that, I have to admit; 2/ I can get out of the car, do what I need in the shop, and quickly get back to the car? As long as the car moved with the queue, option 2/ seemed great to me (you have to admit it, it was a great idea at that moment)... And then I thought: why not asking someone to move the car meanwhile? Honestly, when I think of what I did in that specific moment, I doubt if I had either drunk something really strong or if I had smoked something of double strength, but I guess the answer is none of the two, the idea just came to me in my "normal and conscious state" (which can even be more worrying)… But, honestly, it simply came into my mind as most of the things do, just without thinking… that’s it… exactly without thinking (because if you think even for a second, any sensible person in this world would already discard the idea…. but not me….specially not me…).

So, just like that, with the option number 2/ in my head, I got out of the car, and went to speak to the taxi driver just behind me, patiently following the lane: “Would you mind moving my car while you move yours in the lane, and meanwhile, I will go into the shop and quickly finish something I need to do, please? It will only be a question of two minutes, and I will be back very, very soon, with plenty of time before you pass in front of the door to get your passenger, for sure….” No words can possibly do justice to the face that the poor taxi driver had when I explained to him “my plan corresponding to the option 2/”… He was just about to collapse or maybe to phone the mental hospital and ask whether someone was missing… But (maybe because it was Christmas? I do not think so, but in all films people are doing good things in this period, so why not?) the reality is that he was maybe too shocked to even be able to articulate anything that was not an “ok…??!!” and I gave him my car keys and ran into the store without waiting too long for him to react… I could finally shop what I needed and really the taxi driver needs to be happy that I was really rushing to get all done in the shortest possible time ever… And really admitting that I had plenty of “distractions” attracting my voluble resolution when it comes to being quick in a shop and focussing on an objective… So, really, he needs to be thankful and happy after all for what I did… Et voilà! I was back and my car was even two cars after the taxi that was at that moment in front of the door getting the next passenger… So proud and so happy to be there on time…

Even if not conventional at all, do you now understand that this post is titled A Christmas Carol?

So, so sweet, isn’t it?? I really love Christmas… Such a wonderful period…