(First, huge thanks to fellow expat Jim Forbes for passing along this information. I had given up hope.)
Comunidad.Madrid now permits elderly vaccine seekers to book appointments online! Here’s how:
(♦) Go to https://www.comunidad.madrid/covid-19
(♦) Scroll past the likely-familiar text on this page until you discover an unfamiliar gray rectangular box:
(Para colectivos especificos means ‘for specific groups.’ As you’re about to see.)
(♦) Click VER INFORMACIÓN Y PEDIR CITA
The explanatory text that follows will tell you, in Spanish, that Madrid has launched a pilot book-your-own-appointment service for residents born between 1954 and 1964. Click:
ACCEDER A LA PETICIÓN DE CITA
And you’ll see a new screen:
I could have logged in with my CIPA, if I had any idea of what a CIPA is or had ever heard the term ‘CIPA’ before. Instead I entered my NIE, my birthdate (in European format, mind you: DD/MM/YYYY, rather than the USA-standard MM/DD/YYYY), and clicked the little box confirming my lie that I had read the Conditions of Use.
(Conditions = A six-page Spanish .pdf, still unread, but undoubtedly with many coded references to that legendary 6/6/66 George Soros address to the Bilderberg group at Bohemian Grove. Was the ten year old Bill Gates on hand?)
I now have an appointment and can’t offer a blow-by-blow of the steps that followed, but they were very close to:
(♦) The system recognized my name and birthdate. If it hadn’t, I would have called the 900 102 112 hotline.
(♦) It wanted to send me an SMS cell phone text message to confirm my identy. I let it do so, and entered the code received.
(♦) I could now choose an appointment at either Wanda Metropolitano stadium or the Wizink Center. I chose Wizink, as I’d already visited Wizink in a futile attempt to beg my way into an informal vaccine appointment a few weeks ago.
I was offered a date and a choice of times. I grabbed a slot.
(♦) The next screen confirmed my chosen date, time and place, and included a QR code that I’m supposed to show on appointment day. I made a screenshot of this QR code in Linux, worried that this wouldn’t be adequate and decided to repeat the whole book-an-appointment process on my smartphone. In Android 11 — or, at least, in my fabulous GrapheneOS on Android — I can make a screenshot by pressing the power button and choosing the screeshot option.)
That’s what I know so far. I’ve got the date, time and place. I should be in. I’ll update while rubbing my sore arm after the shot.
fully-vaccinated Memorial Day update: The Community of Madrid sent a confirmation text message a few days after I booked my vaccine appointment. I almost deleted it, am glad now that I didn’t. A Wizink Center staffer asked me to click the sanidadmadrid.org link in the body of the message; this ushered a slightly different confirmation onto my smartphone screen, including a big green check mark:
I like to think that I would have gotten in with the above-described screenshot, but the sanidadmadrid.org link is what he wanted to see. Consider it mentioned.
I now joined the line. Looks pretty bad, doesn’t it? It wasn’t; I shuffled impatient feet for no more than ten or fifteen minutes.
Once inside, another staffer scanned the barcode on my smartphone screen, provided a paper ticket sporting a four digit number, and invited me to join many dozens of fellow Madrileños seated beneath jumbo vertical LCDs in a cavernous waiting room. I had no idea what to do here or where to sit … but you will, lucky reader, at least if Wizink doesn’t change procedures in the meantime:
I could sit anywhere, merely had to wait until my ticket’s four digit number appeared under TURNO VACUNACIÓN on one of the LCDs. I could then walk to the far end of the room, show my ticket to another employee and proceed to what we Americans would call the second floor, but which is Planta 1 here.
Looks like an agreeable fellow, doesn’t he? He was; everyone at Wizink was quite friendly, as privately weary as they may be of answering the same questions and repeating the same instructions hour after hour. I deposited my ticket in the tray at lower right, gratefully accepted an informe de vacunación that can be furnished to proof-of-vaccine seekers who may doubt my word, and was invited to sit in an out-of-photo-range spot to the right of his desk. Another pleasant staffer despaired of ever mastering English as she prepped my arm for the injection. Ow! Ow!
Janssen vaccine = one shot, and one shot only. I was swaggering my vaccinated way back to the Goya station all of forty minutes after arriving at Wizink. All done!
Update, 6/2/2021: Added link to Jim’s website.