Sangria, aceitunas verdes, pimientos de atun, calamares, mejillones, una mas cerveza… Elbowed between strangers, swimming in the raucous energy, I’m crazy for madrid.

Past midnight, I sang above the crowd in Spanish what I thought was, “Puedo pegar?” (Can I pay?)

“Pero? por que” (But why?) blushed our young Manolito, serving up tapas, his dark, long eyelashes flirted back…
“Usted quiere pegarme?” (You want to slap me?). Laughter erupted from the standing room only bar.

I soon learned the sweet difference an e as in pegarte (hit/slap) and an a as in pagar (pay) sounds to the inexperienced…