You pop to the supermarket for bread. Simple. Five minutes, in and out, job done.
But no.
You forgot this is Spain.
The señora in front of you at the checkout isn’t just paying. She’s hosting a full reunion with the cashier. They’re laughing. They’re discussing the weather, their children, their neighbour’s cousin’s dog, the entire plot of last night’s TV drama… all while you stand behind them with your basket, nodding politely like an extra in someone else’s life story.
You check your watch.
Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen.
Your bread is becoming emotionally stale.
But eventually, with a kiss on the cheek and a hearty “hasta luego,” she leaves, and it’s your turn… only for the cashier to now greet you with the same level of warmth and enthusiasm.
You walk out smiling, because honestly, it’s impossible not to.
And that’s the thing about Spain: even the supermarket line feels like a social event.
