I love Madrid

I love Madrid.
Here's how I know:
The people here drive me crazy: they smoke cigarettes in the running track and in the metro entrances. They walk down the street slowly, with no notice of anyone else or having to be anywhere, always stopping suddenly, wheeling these awful looking briefcase on wheels type things. They are always shouting, into their phones, in the street, everywhere, they are shouting. There's no such thing as customer service here, or air conditioning, or personal space. they have an annoying lisp and say things like "plaTHa" and "haTHer"

That's all ok, because everyone hangs their laundry out the window into the blue Spanish sky. In certain parts of the city, you can make out the mountains that surround. The whole city spends Sunday afternoon in retiro park, laying on blankets, paddling in the pond, sitting around playing guitars and drums, eating ice cream cones. The people are welcoming and generous and colorful. people sit out in plazas, plazas so old & cobblestoned with street artists and pigeons, socializing, late into the night, they have more holidays than any other country. nobody ever sleeps, but stays up all night salsa dancing and eating churros. everyone walks everywhere and knows their neighbors and buys fresh bread and fresh produce near daily.

it's all ok with me, because i love madrid. I can't help it.