1 + 1 = 4

Yet again, a waiter tried to con us.


We went out for some Saturday night tapas to Casa La Vuida in Calle Albareda. We’d been there a few times before and like the cosy traditional bar which has reasonable prices considering its right in the centre.

The heavy rain kept most people in doors, but we still had to stand at the bar next to a stinking bucket of boquerones – small slender silver fish. I’m unsure why they were on the bar, with their gormless eyes staring at the customers, but they were.

The five waiters dressed in white and red stripy shirts were rushing about taking orders, shouting at the chef (there was only one), and arguing with each other.

‘What’s your problem?’ said our bossy waiter to a new one.

‘What?’

‘Did you ask that man if he wanted ham or fish croquettes?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I heard you; you just presumed he wanted ham, didn’t you?’

‘So what?’

‘So what? You know you must give them the option, now go back and ask.’

So there was some tension flying about.

We ate, drank a couple of beers, and asked for the bill.

‘They’ve done it again,’ I said to Chia.

‘What?’

‘How many beers did I have?’

‘Two.’

‘What does that say?’ I said, showing her the bill.

‘Four.’

I was proud of myself for not getting in a mood with the waiter. I told him I only had two beers and he changed the bill. But there was no apology, no smile, and no tip.

It doesn’t take a maths graduate to know that 1 + 1 = 2. I’d like to believe that the waiter made an honest mistake, but I don’t.

So my advice is check your bills. Spain is in a time of crisis like the rest of the world, but it seems all right that they can try to get one over the rich guiris, if only.