Here’s a little something I’d like to share. I helped my friend Osse move flats the other day (in the bitter cold). And since it was cold, I borrowed my flat mate Anna’s bright blue puffy winter vest. Now, to get to Osse’s house, I have to take the metro. As I was walking to the metro station I heard the train coming so I ran as fast as I could. I flew up the stairs just as the train was pulling in but all of the doors to the platform were closed (because of the cold). I tried them all: locked, locked, locked, open! I saw the train on the platform but I still had to find my metro ticket in my pocket. As I was fumbling around with my wallet I heard the train doors going, “beep beep beep beep” just as they do right before they close. I found my ticket, punched it at the turnstile, and made a mad dash for the door of the train. I felt as if the doors were going to close right in front of me so I leaned forward as I ran like a runner finishing a race. I made it into the car but then slipped on the smooth floor and busted my butt in front of about 50 Spaniards. I landed face-first on the floor. I quickly turned over onto my back and instinctively yelled, “Safe!” totally forgetting the fact that not only did no one on the train speak English, but I’m sure none of them could appreciate the baseball metaphor. As I was getting up, a man from behind me lifted me to my feet and asked if I was alright. I said, “Yes, fine, thank you” (all in Spanish now) and then stood in the corner of the car as all of the seats were taken. The worst part was that about 10 seconds after I got up the doors decided to close (finally). I couldn’t do anything except stand there with my scraped knee and hang my head in shame for five more stops as I heard everyone’s thoughts saying, “Look at that clumsy American with the bright blue puffy vest.”