A few nights ago I road my bike to the store to pick up some groceries. Jess and I were able to talk on the phone (finally! It felt like it's been ages) so I got a late start on my errands. It wasn't dark yet, but is was starting to get dark-ish. I did some "exploratory biking" which basically means that I ride my bike in a certain direction to see what's there. When I'm done, I always wish I would have turned on the GPS tracker on my phone because it would be great to see the convoluted route I take as I hit dead-ends, construction fences, and freeways, thus causing me to backtrack and take a different route. After my exploratory biking (during which I excitedly found an organic grocery store!) I stopped by the Alcampo store to buy some groceries. It's hard to describe, but picture a Super Walmart (are they called Super Walmarts? Maybe I'm thinking of Super Targets? K-Marts were Big K-Marts, so what the heck are the grocery-store-Walmarts called? Anyway, I digress.). So think of a Super/Big/Grocery Walmart that anchors a medium sized mall, that's what Alcampo is like. Although the wine section is probably 60ft x 100ft large, so it's not exactly like Walmart, but you get my point.

As usual, I lock my bike to the bike rack and walk in with my backpack. The backpack is why I never have enough food in the house; you can only buy food for 1-2 days when whatever you buy has to fit in your backpack. I feel a bit stupid for even bringing it up, because much of the world lives in urban environments without car access and they do exactly what I'm doing (buying groceries one day at a time and carrying them back home on a bike or walking). But for me, the entire process is a novelty, and by novelty, I mean annoying.

Let's do a little word game here. I say Super Walmart. What do you think of? I can tell you what I don't think of. Bicycles. Nope, bicycles I definitely do NOT think of. I think of giant shopping carts, cars, massive parks lots, kids (mostly mine) that won't stay in the shopping cart, and are being very vocal about it if they are (just kidding, my kids are perfect, yours are bad.) I'm definitely not thinking bicycles or those hand pull grocery carts.

Interesting note about the backpack: when you go into Alcampo or Carrefour or another large store with a backpack, the security guy by the entrance puts a zip tie through the zippers so you can't get it open in the store. Makes sense, right? They don't want you stealing a 12-pack of TP and shoving it in your backpack. Am I right, or am I right? Actually it makes perfect sense, unless you don't speak Spanish.

When I run I errands, I just want to blend in and pretend I'm a normal guy. This was generally not possible in China, which is why every errand was exhausting (until you get to the point that you just don't care that people stare and laugh at you, but it took years for us to develop that level of confidence). But in Spain, I look like everyone else so I just try to blend in. Part of my blend in strategy is to listen to music, podcasts, or the unbelievably awesome audio version of The Economist while I shop. That way no one will be tempted to talk to me. So picture this, the first time I enter the store, I'm just a normal guy, listening to my music, until I notice the security guard is yelling something at me (not in an angry way, just in a loud way, because I didnt hear him the first few times) and jogging towards me.

Let's take a moment to define the term security guard. When I say security guard, I don't mean mall cop. These security guards are not crazy obese, with nothing but a walky-talky strapped to a belt given the impossible task of keeping those pants up. On the other hand, I'm not talking Philippines security guard who is 16 - 22 years old, wearing an ill-fitting security guard uniform and a starter mustache, with a pearl-handled six-shot revolver in an Old West style leather holster on a bandolier with a shiny brass buckle. No, visualize something in between those two extremes. The security guard at Alcampo has a shaved head, is trim (neither big nor small) and has a few tattoos. He looks like he could move if he had to (no Segway needed), but they never do.

Until now, and he's moving towards me.

At this point, I have to give up my act, confess I don't speak Spanish and that I'm not a normal guy. I have no idea what he wants, but I run through a mental checklist:

Have I stolen anything? No, I just walked into the store.
Am I inappropriately dressed? Uhh, for a Walmart-clone? I take a quick look around and everyone is dressed more-or-less like me. So no.
Do I have to pay a cover charge to get in? Oops, it's a grocery store, not a bar. No.
So by process of elimination, he must want my backpack. Bingo.

Please note that while I'm running through my checklist, he's talking to me the entire time. I throw him my motto for the summer No hablo español. He continues to talk to me like I just said Please talk to me as much as you can in Spanish, I'm understanding every word. He gestures to my backpack. I give it to him. This looks like a normal place, with normal people, and I'm pretty sure I will get my backpack returned to me, but there's always that nagging 1% in the back of your mind thinking What if you don't?.

But I play along, and follow him back to his security podium by the entrance. I'm thinking he's going to hand me a claim ticket so I can get my bag back. Instead, he whips out wad of LONG bright blue zip ties, like I'm going to be handcuffed Guantanamo-style, but then deftly weaves one through all the zippers on my bag and snips off the excess. The security guard gives me a movie star smile as he hands me back my now secured backpack. No hams will be pilfered by this backpack on his watch. Nice work. I take my backpack and continue on into the store. Until I realize that my shopping list is IN the backpack! Oh well, live and learn.

Now when I walk into the store, I hand my backpack over right away because remember, I'm just a normal guy and I know how all this works.

Fast forward to several nights ago. I get the things I need and head out out of the store to where my bike is chained up. Its 10:00pm so there are only two bikes there so there's no confusion about which one is mine, but something looks odd about my bike. It takes me a split second to realize the odd-ness is caused by the fact that my bicycle no longer has a seat. Some schmuck stole my seat and seat post! Because I'm an urbanite newbie, it never dawned on me that my mountain bike has a quick-adjust seat. You pull the lever to release, it frees the seat to move up or down. If you pull the seat up high enough it comes completely off. Apparently, there are many non-newbie urbanites that shop at Alcampo, and they know a free bike seat when they see one.

I'm annoyed. Not really mad, but just frustrated that I didn't have the common sense to realize my seat has been in danger for the past week. Lesson learned, I think. I look around the store entrance, thinking whoever stole my seat might still be there having a nice laugh at my expense. Nope. Probably a good thing I guess.

In retrospect, I've come to rationalize the entire unfortunate situation. I can only assume that someone had their seat stolen, and therefore, stole mine, such that they could have a fully functioning bike again. Perhaps there is a shortage of bike seats in Madrid, so the entire situation is like musical chairs, where bike seats are constantly being passed (stolen) around between the bike riding community.

So that night I got to walk home, pushing my bike. Not a big deal. If you recall, I walk a lot. The bike still technically functioned, but I didn't want to ride standing up and risk forgetting and sitting down where the seat used to be. I calculated the extra time needed to walk home versus the feeling of sitting on a metal bar, and made the conservative choice.

Yesterday, I walked the three miles to Decathlon (a French sporting goods store) and bought a new seat, new seat post, and some cool bicycle bags (that go on either side of the rear wheel). I have a usable bike now, and I'm using Jess's bike lock to secure my seat to the bike. I haven't gone back to Alcampo yet, but I will. And I'll keep you posted.