Meanwhile, in a Salamanca convenience store

I can't tell you I was born to work alone in my home.

While I covet the convenience of a virtual life, I have discovered I am far from a virtual person. Every so often I get up and wander the neighborhood or toss a few stones off Salamanca's Roman bridge just to remind myself there's a world out there.

This morning's break was a stroll to the neighborhood kiosko for my daily bread and El País. As the owner was making my change, a man dropped off 2007 Semana Santa posters for him to hang in the shop's windows.

We were opening the posters when we heard someone in the doorway. An elderly woman was standing in front of the open door, trying to get the owner's attention. She was greyhaired, with spindly legs leading up to a black coat and a bright pink scarf. She desperately wanted to be heard.

Perdona. ¡Perdona! ¡¡Oye!!

We both looked up. Her next sentence started small, but built its way up to a dramatic Castillian finish.

Luego.... ENTRO.
Later....I'm coming in.

She jabbed her finger in the air like a politician who'd just promised to right every one of the world's wrongs. Satisfied, she marched away.

The store's owner looked up and shrugged.
Cuando quiera.
Whenever she wants.

We went back to the posters.