The subway line that I take every morning has continuous wagons of those in which you can see the cloned seats disappearing towards the bottom of the machine as in a hall of mirrors where the passengers are also copies, all sitting in exactly the same position : head bowed, smartphone in one hand, eyes fixed on it.
Nobody speaks on the way, which is very useful, since articulating words is supposed to be a way of releasing aerosols loaded with viruses. Nor does anyone meet glances, not even when that poor man goes by in the afternoons reciting desperately, like a troubadour of misery, his string of calamities.
If you think about it, it is truly marvelous that there are personal computers the size of a little missal connected to all the knowledge in the universe. How can we not lose track of what surrounds us immersed in that limitless source of knowledge and fun? Let’s also admit that these devices are very useful for all of us to make us crazy when someone yells “Help! Please!”
People have complained about the time we have had to live confined without realizing that we were already living like this, “says Mirta
On Friday morning I was consulting the news of the day when a report from Antonio Pérez in which he paid tribute to the Mastropiero, the first pizzeria in Malasaña, the one that my friend Águeda took me to when I still did not live in Madrid, she was not yet a mother and neither of us had ever used WhatsApp.
It is a tiny place on Calle San Vicente Ferrer, with tile walls (once a butcher shop) covered with posters of groups that played in Madrid in the nineties and of unions that ceased to be glamorous long before. There Mirta, an Argentinian who is 80 years old and has been putting circles of flour in the oven for 40, continues to give you a delicious sweet de leche chip that is a hard drug when you finish eating.
From inside my cell phone, Mirta herself said: “What I see scares me. People have complained about how long we have had to live in confinement without realizing that we were already living like this. There are customers who come to the place and share pizza, but not the moment because they do not take their noses off the screen. When I see that I go over and tell them that here they can kiss, caress and even quarrel a little if it touches, but that as they pass the time with their mobile I leave them without dessert. Obviously it’s a joke, here we give dessert to everyone, but I like to make them think ”.
Those words, which smelled like the freshly made dough of the octopus pizza that was my favorite from the Mastropiero, moved me so much that I sent him a whatsapp to my friend Águeda, who answered from the city where she lives now: “It was my favorite place in the world. We were so close! ” Then I continued my journey. I didn’t stop looking at my phone for a single second.
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