Spain, Barcelona,
16 Nov. 2010.
In a few simple but profitable days I have managed to sell all the games I took with me from Amsterdam, a good deal of Dinero on top of my holiday budget, hanging out with dark skinned Africans who sell next to me in the busy streets of this Catalunya capital and are always willing, if not deperate to share some Estrellas with me at the end of a - for them anyway - stressful day...
I guess when you sell fake rolexes, not so real Rayban sunglasses and claim your jewelry is first class silver and gold though a few scratches with the human nail or the end of a room key will give the first layers away to the nickel underneath, complaints are bound to be filed...Barcelona´s finest trying hard to protect the Numero Uno reputation of a city thriving on the tourist buck...
Local shop owners not all that happy with illegal ambulant vendors spoiling their business but not paying taxes, rent of retail prices...yeah, small wonder Los Mossos D´esquadra are less interested in me and my handmade funny little games than in my dark skinned brothers who run on black soles like chicken do for the red colored fox, their wares slung around African shoulders, no eye for the blond Scandinavian sex bombs they were just mere minutes ago trying hard to impress with stories that had no real meaning apart from getting into Swedish female pants...
Not that my newly found buddies from that sorry continent see it that way, no way at all, according to them all the European police are racist and corrupt bastarts who have Pas De Respet for those that come from impoverished african states where the average education for those from the street and the countrysite is minimal...
On and on they go in this small and obscure little local bar near the Platja Barceloneta while they knock down red colored alu cans of cold Estrella paid by poor Moi...Well, what can I say, I have heard it all before, more than once, C´est La Vie, C´est le monde. Mes Amis D´Afrique
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