The other side of the Tormes
I've been cruelly wrenched from the post office workers I've grown so fond of, at the central post office on the Gran Vía. Between my mother and Amazon, we've spent quit a bit of time together.
But Saturday, after turning the office upside down without uncovering a single package labelled "Corcoran", my trustiest Correos pal checked the computer, then gently broke the news.
My package had been sent to the new Post Office branch in San José, a neighborhood I've never even visited.
A neighborhood across the river.
I grumbled, but the Correos men on the other side of the Tormes were just as talkative, and, in the end, crossing that bridge I never cross gave me a lovely view back home.
Question, Spaniards: I could swear he said "por algún arroz" when he told me the package was in San José. "Por algún arroz, lo han llevado allí."
¿Se dice? ¡¿Por algún arroz?!
It's just that I love it, but I've never heard it. Maybe I'm losing my ears.