People in Madrid are plenty nice--they certainly don´t have the reputation of Parisians or New Yorkers for rudeness and aggression--but if they´re unhappy with you, they will make it damn clear. I´ve told the story of the furious upbraiding of a whole train car for refusing to give up a seat to an old woman, and over the past few weeks I´ve witnessed several interactions that confirm my initial impression that Madrileños are not to be fucked with.
On the subway home from work one afternoon, a middle-aged guy and his elderly father got onto the train. The father is decked out in all the trappings of the tourist--an open map, walking shoes, and a camera case strapped (rather unwisely, I thought) around his waist. The train was a bit crowded and they found themselves pushed up next to a couple a grungy-looking types, two guys in torn jeans and dirty t-shirts. The father was looking at his map, but the son, suspicious of the neighbors from the start, kept watch over the situation out of the corner of his eye. A couple of stops down the line, an unwelcome hand is on the camera case, and the son is screaming. ´´Get your filthy hand away from my father´s camera! Thief! Thief! There´s a thief on the metro!´´ The guy´s face gives him away--he clearly had designs on the camera-- and his friend is throwing him under the bus, putting space between them, pretending to be absorbed in his iPhone. The son´s still yelling. ´´Where the hell is security? Someone call security! Thief!´´ He´s shoving the would-be perpetrator against the wall when other travelers finally get involved, entreating him to relax before this gets ugly. When he and his father disembark, he stands at the open doors of the car, yelling to everyone getting on ´´Watch your things, there´s a thief on this train!´´ while the failed criminals disappear into the crowd.
I teach private classes in a fancy neighborhood full of fur coats and BMWs where people literally look down their noses at you. There´s a little shop near the metro I take home and I duck in for some snacks. A woman in full mink walking on a mahogany cane enters the store, carrying a large, open bag of sunflower seeds. She plops it down on the counter and says politely, ´´I would like to return this.´´ The shop attendant, a girl about my age, looks confused. ´´But you opened it.´´ ´´Well yes, how else would I know if I like them? They´re not as good as the ones I usually buy and I want to exchange them.´´ The shop girl, clearly not endowed with immense patience, explains in no uncertain terms that this is patently ridiculous. The lady can´t believe what she´s hearing--her manners rapidly erode as she spirals into a ever-louder rampage on the deterioration of customer service in this country. They both look at me, each expecting me to support her case, so I run away.
Sometimes it´s obnoxious and absurd, but there is a certain admirable boldness in it. So many people here are perfectly willing to cause a scene, no matter how large or small the issue. I prefer to go about my day in peace, generally not screaming at anyone... but I must admit I enjoy the show.
