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Mafia Quotes
Quotes tagged as "mafia"
Showing 121-150 of 428
“I was wondering if I was the only one,
who still wanted to grow and succeed,
the only one who still believed in it all,
ultimately, in Tomas and in Spain?”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
who still wanted to grow and succeed,
the only one who still believed in it all,
ultimately, in Tomas and in Spain?”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“-Elena, te juro por Dios que, si me entero de que has dejado que te toque cualquier hombre, te enviaré sus manos en una caja.”
― The Sweetest Oblivion
― The Sweetest Oblivion
“Later that night, while I was waiting for Martina in vain, I noticed two to three of the Camorra's soldiers living a few houses down our street. From the rooftop, and our bedroom that was higher than theirs, I could see into their living room.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“I couldn't cry anymore—she had killed something inside me with her last text message, about our, child.
Around 2-3 AM, I finally fell asleep, only to be awoken around 4 AM by a strange, bothersome feeling.
It could have been anyone or anything else, as I was so blindfolded and unaware of the danger—even though I was perfectly aware of the danger because of my signature on Golan. I soon realised that it was her hair tickling my face, as she leaned over me trying to cover my face with kisses. I was spooked and sat up in bed, thinking that something was crawling on my face. We nearly head-bumped each other when I woke up in surprise. It was then that I realised it was her. It was not nice.
I wish she had put her hands on me, if she had touched me and woke me up. If she had communicated honestly instead. But she was out of touch.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
Around 2-3 AM, I finally fell asleep, only to be awoken around 4 AM by a strange, bothersome feeling.
It could have been anyone or anything else, as I was so blindfolded and unaware of the danger—even though I was perfectly aware of the danger because of my signature on Golan. I soon realised that it was her hair tickling my face, as she leaned over me trying to cover my face with kisses. I was spooked and sat up in bed, thinking that something was crawling on my face. We nearly head-bumped each other when I woke up in surprise. It was then that I realised it was her. It was not nice.
I wish she had put her hands on me, if she had touched me and woke me up. If she had communicated honestly instead. But she was out of touch.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“Tomas thinks he is the Prince of Hungaryâ€� - Why would Adam say that to Martina? That wasn't the right question I kept asking myself. Did Adam say that to Martina or someone else? Was it meant as a message to me? How in what kind of conversation could it be said like that and why? What was Adam referring to when he said “The Prince of Hungaryâ€�? I was arguing with Rachel and Adam over the summer before. I challenged their belief that the UK was victorious in World War II and they were both puzzled, asking why. I tried to convince them by telling them the story of an Austrian Jewish lady who had migrated to the UK before the Anschluss and sensed that Nazi forces were approaching, but the UK denied her documents to stay and she ended up stuck between the Nazis in France and the UK on the Channel islands. The Nazis took all Jews from the islands, including Therese Steiner, and she ultimately ended up in Auschwitz and in the gas chambers. My point was that if the UK didn't defend its own citizens to avoid conflict, then how could they be seen as 'winners'? Who was the Jew here who was stuck between good and evil? I didn't realise that Adam in 2014 was trying to disprove my point, gaining victory without direct confrontation.
Perhaps he was offended that I cared more about a poor, lonely Jewish girl trying to escape death and horrors than he would have cared himself.”
―
Perhaps he was offended that I cared more about a poor, lonely Jewish girl trying to escape death and horrors than he would have cared himself.”
―
“Halfway home from Plaza Espana, I was in no rush and stopped by a quiet, closed little square on my way, called Plaza de Santa Madrona. I bought a Lucky Strike, “blandoâ€� softpack, “sin aditivosâ€�, from a small bar's cigarette vending machine and ordered a cafe cortado, my favorite coffee in Spain. Both Adam and I smoked the same type of cigarettes in Spain; that was the best one.
In Italy, I preferred to smoke MS Azzurro and caffe corretto con La Vecchia Romagna - a short, strong espresso with a shot of Italian cognac. That could wake you up after a seventeen-hour roadtrip from Budapest to Gaeta, which was necessary as administrative duties had been added to my interpreter roles over time. If I made a mistake, I wouldn't receive a bonus. Indeed. There was speech. Only once or twice in almost 5 years by the end of 2014.
I knew I would end up at the Magalhaes and Radas corner, walking that way towards home anyhow. I was just sitting on that little square, surrounded by buildings; I was the only person sitting at the bar terrace. This was the first time I did not want to go home to Carrer Radas. There was a fountain in the middle; you could almost hear the water running down into a tub, echoing on the hidden little street which had no traffic whatsoever. It was almost like a holy moment - “Santa Madrona, help me,â€� I thought. I, the atheist, was asking for some miracle in that silent, peaceful, hidden little plazita where time seemed to stand still.”
―
In Italy, I preferred to smoke MS Azzurro and caffe corretto con La Vecchia Romagna - a short, strong espresso with a shot of Italian cognac. That could wake you up after a seventeen-hour roadtrip from Budapest to Gaeta, which was necessary as administrative duties had been added to my interpreter roles over time. If I made a mistake, I wouldn't receive a bonus. Indeed. There was speech. Only once or twice in almost 5 years by the end of 2014.
I knew I would end up at the Magalhaes and Radas corner, walking that way towards home anyhow. I was just sitting on that little square, surrounded by buildings; I was the only person sitting at the bar terrace. This was the first time I did not want to go home to Carrer Radas. There was a fountain in the middle; you could almost hear the water running down into a tub, echoing on the hidden little street which had no traffic whatsoever. It was almost like a holy moment - “Santa Madrona, help me,â€� I thought. I, the atheist, was asking for some miracle in that silent, peaceful, hidden little plazita where time seemed to stand still.”
―
“The Camorra's proud little labyrinthine club could have fit inside either of our potential locations multiple times. One of them was 550 square meters, the other one over 600; both were two stories, both for sale for half a million Euros each.
I knew before even opening our own club it might be stolen from us by the Camorra.
I knew I would have to be the bridge, the interpreter, to perhaps make a deal with them instead.
Meaning, without me, Adam would not be able to make a deal with the Camorra. I did not think that I would, could, or should cross Adam with the same move.”
―
I knew before even opening our own club it might be stolen from us by the Camorra.
I knew I would have to be the bridge, the interpreter, to perhaps make a deal with them instead.
Meaning, without me, Adam would not be able to make a deal with the Camorra. I did not think that I would, could, or should cross Adam with the same move.”
―
“With a pair of scissors in my pocket, a bottle of rum in my hand, and Martina, we walked towards Plaza Trippy to go to the alley behind it called Carrer de la Rosa.
Martina didn't know what this was all about; I tried to make it a surprise.
At the gate, I asked Martina to hold the scissors until I climbed up the wall of the building and cut off the sign. I never had the chance to tell her that I used to do indoor climbing. Just like Adam.
It was so dusty and rusty, abandoned and old, that I got dirty. The sign was quite new, or at least it looked new, but it was dustier than I had thought - it must have been up there for years. I cut the zip ties on the four corners, holding the sign to the old metal railings and then I jumped down from the wall to jump into Martina's arms in the tight alley. We were laughing. We went up and left, and up and right a few blocks until we crossed Ferran Street, I think, and finally, I thought we were safe: let's take a picture of the sign and get rid of it. I didn’t want anyone to see us in front of the place or on the busy Carrer Escudellers taking a picture of the 'For Sale' sign.
Only Martina knew that we were going to have a club and that it would be right there.
I gave my iPhone to Martina to take a picture of me holding the sign. I was so happy. I had my new girlfriend, suddenly from the sky, and she seemed to be “The One�. Celestial.
I was wearing my beige suede Adidas shoes with white sole which Sabrina had surprised me with a year earlier on my birthday, my dark green Globe pants, and my black Breach jacket, a black hoodie, smiling ear to ear while holding a dirty sign in front of a store's closed metal shutter decorated with graffiti.
After throwing out the sign in the trash can with Martina, I sent Adam the picture. He replied late at night: �:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD�
Finally, it took a year to make Adam happy, even though Sabrina wouldn't let me make her happy.
I got the place to make 'Aso Golan', the only place it could ever take place; to be one of the largest coffeeshops in Barcelona.
I knew it would take another year to quickly fix up the place and pass the inspection before we could open it. I knew that in few years, we would be rich, looking back to the day I made my first order at the Sagrada Familia. Or the night we took off the FOR SALE sign with Martina.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
Martina didn't know what this was all about; I tried to make it a surprise.
At the gate, I asked Martina to hold the scissors until I climbed up the wall of the building and cut off the sign. I never had the chance to tell her that I used to do indoor climbing. Just like Adam.
It was so dusty and rusty, abandoned and old, that I got dirty. The sign was quite new, or at least it looked new, but it was dustier than I had thought - it must have been up there for years. I cut the zip ties on the four corners, holding the sign to the old metal railings and then I jumped down from the wall to jump into Martina's arms in the tight alley. We were laughing. We went up and left, and up and right a few blocks until we crossed Ferran Street, I think, and finally, I thought we were safe: let's take a picture of the sign and get rid of it. I didn’t want anyone to see us in front of the place or on the busy Carrer Escudellers taking a picture of the 'For Sale' sign.
Only Martina knew that we were going to have a club and that it would be right there.
I gave my iPhone to Martina to take a picture of me holding the sign. I was so happy. I had my new girlfriend, suddenly from the sky, and she seemed to be “The One�. Celestial.
I was wearing my beige suede Adidas shoes with white sole which Sabrina had surprised me with a year earlier on my birthday, my dark green Globe pants, and my black Breach jacket, a black hoodie, smiling ear to ear while holding a dirty sign in front of a store's closed metal shutter decorated with graffiti.
After throwing out the sign in the trash can with Martina, I sent Adam the picture. He replied late at night: �:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD�
Finally, it took a year to make Adam happy, even though Sabrina wouldn't let me make her happy.
I got the place to make 'Aso Golan', the only place it could ever take place; to be one of the largest coffeeshops in Barcelona.
I knew it would take another year to quickly fix up the place and pass the inspection before we could open it. I knew that in few years, we would be rich, looking back to the day I made my first order at the Sagrada Familia. Or the night we took off the FOR SALE sign with Martina.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“No one is really evil, they are just led astray by ignorance.â€� â€� Buddha
Who said that Buddha was always right or that the percentage of psychopaths was around the same figures in his time as it is in today's society, in Spain? â€� Tomas Adam Nyapi”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
Who said that Buddha was always right or that the percentage of psychopaths was around the same figures in his time as it is in today's society, in Spain? â€� Tomas Adam Nyapi”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“See I grew pessimistic. Unsure if reading the book would make any difference. For her. For the Justice. To prevail. Law. Order.
Females like psychopaths and criminals. Fairy tales and vampires. Bad guys. Not the good guys. They are attracted to the bad guys. Using good guys. „Being smarter.� Until: caught.
They enjoy using and hurting good people. It is not only their way of living. Killing.
They have no inner control or conscience influenced by society. They allow themselves to be happy without any restraint, associating with bad people and engaging in unlawful activities.
Bad people / Psychopath females
Them and their owners.
The Sin. The Crime. The Knowledge. The Secret. The Wisdom. The Snake. The Apple. Adam.
Paradise. Hell.
This is how they often end up in jail or dead, or occasionally getting splashed with acid, riding wheelchairs, usually due to their involvement with drug-dealing boyfriends. Getting: „surprised.�
No one gets „acid� in his/her face for no reason. This is an honest book.
Do you want me to say a name, an example or add a list?
„Say her name.� ... ?
OKAY.
I will not add any other examples, or names, to the list, as I choose to mention, point out the story of: Breonna Taylor as both the beginning and end of the list. I do not want to spend time searching for more instances, ladies, as my intention is not to defend or advocate for individuals who have engaged in wrongdoing, regardless of their gender. I am not trying to save the lives of criminals anymore. I have no girlfriend/abuser. To save. From herself.
I don't believe it is productive to compile a list of examples or names of females who were involved in criminal activities or found themselves in dangerous situations. Beds. Doing so would be a futile use of time.
„The problem is, that women, they have/got all the pussies.� � Serbian proverb
Perhaps the police used excessive force. Perhaps. Alright. I don't doubt it. I don't agree either.
It was a dangerous guy. Warrants. Danger. Dangerous situation. Lawful enter or not. ...
These bodycam videos don't show you the level of adrenaline you have in such situations. "Kill or be killed." The officers want to get home tonight as well to see their loved ones. I wouldn't call that "trigger-happy." But I think it fits to call the criminals: cowardly. Using live body shield: their girlfriends. In general. Hiding. Behind girls.
Just like: Adam Maraudin. And so many more.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
Females like psychopaths and criminals. Fairy tales and vampires. Bad guys. Not the good guys. They are attracted to the bad guys. Using good guys. „Being smarter.� Until: caught.
They enjoy using and hurting good people. It is not only their way of living. Killing.
They have no inner control or conscience influenced by society. They allow themselves to be happy without any restraint, associating with bad people and engaging in unlawful activities.
Bad people / Psychopath females
Them and their owners.
The Sin. The Crime. The Knowledge. The Secret. The Wisdom. The Snake. The Apple. Adam.
Paradise. Hell.
This is how they often end up in jail or dead, or occasionally getting splashed with acid, riding wheelchairs, usually due to their involvement with drug-dealing boyfriends. Getting: „surprised.�
No one gets „acid� in his/her face for no reason. This is an honest book.
Do you want me to say a name, an example or add a list?
„Say her name.� ... ?
OKAY.
I will not add any other examples, or names, to the list, as I choose to mention, point out the story of: Breonna Taylor as both the beginning and end of the list. I do not want to spend time searching for more instances, ladies, as my intention is not to defend or advocate for individuals who have engaged in wrongdoing, regardless of their gender. I am not trying to save the lives of criminals anymore. I have no girlfriend/abuser. To save. From herself.
I don't believe it is productive to compile a list of examples or names of females who were involved in criminal activities or found themselves in dangerous situations. Beds. Doing so would be a futile use of time.
„The problem is, that women, they have/got all the pussies.� � Serbian proverb
Perhaps the police used excessive force. Perhaps. Alright. I don't doubt it. I don't agree either.
It was a dangerous guy. Warrants. Danger. Dangerous situation. Lawful enter or not. ...
These bodycam videos don't show you the level of adrenaline you have in such situations. "Kill or be killed." The officers want to get home tonight as well to see their loved ones. I wouldn't call that "trigger-happy." But I think it fits to call the criminals: cowardly. Using live body shield: their girlfriends. In general. Hiding. Behind girls.
Just like: Adam Maraudin. And so many more.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“Six. Sex. Star. David. Saturn. Planet. Rings. Eye. Hexagon. Triangles. Eye. On The Sky. Evil. Pushing Buttons. Sins.
Influence. People. Lunatics. Psychopaths. Bad vibes. Frequencies. Praying. For. Easy. Prey.
Summoning: Spirits.
Tempting. Your female. “Like The Snake.�
Sadly, they do “like� the snake and the buttons, too. “Like buttons.�
“Life.� “Like.�
The psychopath (Adam, Sabrina, Martina�) is obsessed with power, controlling other people in order to achieve their goals. They thrive on control, making others jump and "winning," whether it's world domination or obtaining a ride to the coffeeshop, or just a free lunch. Psychopaths see their condition as a blessing, considering it an advantage in this “eye for an eye� and “kill or be killed� and “dog eat dog� world. In their, sadly: Natural Eyes.
They lack remorse or empathy and are incapable of feeling guilt.
We are the ones more civilized.
They remained more natural. Closer to nature.
Only we call them: Evil Eye Cult.
They must be calling themselves: The Saturn, The Satan, The Nature Cult
or Satan’s Eye (Saturn) Cult.
Some of us are in between. Two worlds. Kind of sensing them. Sometimes. Surviving. Too.
They aren’t true hunters or predators. They are worse. “They are sucking. Blood.�
Bloodthirsty people.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
Influence. People. Lunatics. Psychopaths. Bad vibes. Frequencies. Praying. For. Easy. Prey.
Summoning: Spirits.
Tempting. Your female. “Like The Snake.�
Sadly, they do “like� the snake and the buttons, too. “Like buttons.�
“Life.� “Like.�
The psychopath (Adam, Sabrina, Martina�) is obsessed with power, controlling other people in order to achieve their goals. They thrive on control, making others jump and "winning," whether it's world domination or obtaining a ride to the coffeeshop, or just a free lunch. Psychopaths see their condition as a blessing, considering it an advantage in this “eye for an eye� and “kill or be killed� and “dog eat dog� world. In their, sadly: Natural Eyes.
They lack remorse or empathy and are incapable of feeling guilt.
We are the ones more civilized.
They remained more natural. Closer to nature.
Only we call them: Evil Eye Cult.
They must be calling themselves: The Saturn, The Satan, The Nature Cult
or Satan’s Eye (Saturn) Cult.
Some of us are in between. Two worlds. Kind of sensing them. Sometimes. Surviving. Too.
They aren’t true hunters or predators. They are worse. “They are sucking. Blood.�
Bloodthirsty people.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“I suppose my unwavering devotion and love for my girlfriends motivated me to delve deeper into the realm of psychopathy and uncover the truth of what I experienced and managed to survive. And remember. Speelwalking. I can see myself wandering around on Barcelona streets, aware of danger but still unaware how large their web was and is. Infinite. Growing. Like Space.
I feel compelled to share it with others.
Timothy. Cannot.
Timothy is dead. Age 16. In the Cagmayer house on the Prairie.
What can I do? I tried my best and even more than I could. Devoted. Hoping in her return home.
It seems that the three people I met in three consecutive years were all psychopaths from broken families, from psychopath parents. Perhaps nazi grandparents. Most likely. Fascist. Criminals. Juicy or not.
This is the 21 ST century. “United colors.� “Of Benetton.�
All the colors and all the “fasc-ion.�
The mafia of short and evil people wasn’t only international as I thought.
It is global. I only sensed it yet before.
I survived a pandemic of Evil Eyes in Spain, in Europe. So far. On this planet.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
I feel compelled to share it with others.
Timothy. Cannot.
Timothy is dead. Age 16. In the Cagmayer house on the Prairie.
What can I do? I tried my best and even more than I could. Devoted. Hoping in her return home.
It seems that the three people I met in three consecutive years were all psychopaths from broken families, from psychopath parents. Perhaps nazi grandparents. Most likely. Fascist. Criminals. Juicy or not.
This is the 21 ST century. “United colors.� “Of Benetton.�
All the colors and all the “fasc-ion.�
The mafia of short and evil people wasn’t only international as I thought.
It is global. I only sensed it yet before.
I survived a pandemic of Evil Eyes in Spain, in Europe. So far. On this planet.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“Burning books. Like the Christians. Like the Nazis.
Like the Communists.
Burning knowledge. Eliminating. History. Rewriting.
No life under such circumstances. “F…g (bad) people.(sex)� “Making friends� out of our enemies.
Danger. Chaos. Life. Death.
Life in Spain. Pain or Death.
“Suffering or Boredom.�
“Love or Power.�
Dead born ideas. Stillborn. Unborn. Unholy. Unjust. Unpredictable. Juicy.
Unforgiving. Crimes. Like Space. Like Nature. Somehow, they are right, in their own means.
But. Barbarians.
Their crimes are unforgivable. Therefor, their ideology cannot be considered: Excuse.
It is Black Magic.
It is considerably, overwhelmingly: Nazi. Instead.
Evil.
Being a Nazi (predator, psychopath, criminal, murderer, thief�) cannot be your defense speech. Sorry.
“Sorry we are “Natural beings� being nazis. We were only “testing� Tomas. Hunting.�
Criminals respect no laws, no person, no holy, no god, no life.
They respect only the Evil Eye. “Performing.� Acts.
Inhumane methods. Inhumane. Reptilian people. Sacrifice. Blood. Vultures.
Nazis.
And I have to respect their “Human� “Rights.� Imagine. Not telling you their exact names or how they tattoos exactly look like. I cannot defend you from precisely these specific people, vultures, hyenas. But they are part of a bigger thing, so keep your eyes open.
The World: Upside. Down.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
Like the Communists.
Burning knowledge. Eliminating. History. Rewriting.
No life under such circumstances. “F…g (bad) people.(sex)� “Making friends� out of our enemies.
Danger. Chaos. Life. Death.
Life in Spain. Pain or Death.
“Suffering or Boredom.�
“Love or Power.�
Dead born ideas. Stillborn. Unborn. Unholy. Unjust. Unpredictable. Juicy.
Unforgiving. Crimes. Like Space. Like Nature. Somehow, they are right, in their own means.
But. Barbarians.
Their crimes are unforgivable. Therefor, their ideology cannot be considered: Excuse.
It is Black Magic.
It is considerably, overwhelmingly: Nazi. Instead.
Evil.
Being a Nazi (predator, psychopath, criminal, murderer, thief�) cannot be your defense speech. Sorry.
“Sorry we are “Natural beings� being nazis. We were only “testing� Tomas. Hunting.�
Criminals respect no laws, no person, no holy, no god, no life.
They respect only the Evil Eye. “Performing.� Acts.
Inhumane methods. Inhumane. Reptilian people. Sacrifice. Blood. Vultures.
Nazis.
And I have to respect their “Human� “Rights.� Imagine. Not telling you their exact names or how they tattoos exactly look like. I cannot defend you from precisely these specific people, vultures, hyenas. But they are part of a bigger thing, so keep your eyes open.
The World: Upside. Down.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“Just like Sabrina, you can't reason with Adam. Some things are beyond their comprehension. You can only teach someone so much. Just like Sabrina, Adam has his own expectations and ideas; expecting Spain to bend to meet them.
While Sabrina and Adam may feel more at home being able to speak American English and Hebrew respectively, it is not the norm by any means in Spain.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
While Sabrina and Adam may feel more at home being able to speak American English and Hebrew respectively, it is not the norm by any means in Spain.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“It was becoming increasingly obvious that Adam had no understanding of business etiquette, business culture, or common sense. He was always awkward and embarrassing, and seemed to have no grasp on any aspect of business. I began to wonder if he was taking drugs in secret.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“I was standing by the car when two police officers showed up in the alley, very interested in me and the BMW in an alley where car traffic was not allowed at all, sitting there with a Belgian plate tag in the middle of the coffeeshop district, with me, the Hungarian guy, leaning to it smoking a cigarette, obviously waiting for something to happen. They began to examine my IDs and started searching the car. They were looking for drugs, apparently. I had been dealing with them for a few minutes when Adam showed up at the end of the alley. I was the only one looking that way, seeing Adam walking to turn into the alley; the two officers were too busy to notice what I had witnessed. The moment Adam looked up and noticed the officers around me, the moment he was about to turn right towards us into the alley, he made a 180-degree turn, the way a bad kid would do when playing hide and seek. Catching his steps the way Mr. Bean or Benny Hill would do—I could almost hear the music too—was both very funny and very concerning. He was too stupid to be a criminal; he was such a lame criminal that he didn't even think of walking past the alley's entrance like nothing happened instead of turning around and acting so suspiciously and obviously being in the wrong. I began to wonder how the coffeeshop business would work out with this guy if he was suddenly on cocaine all the time before we even opened the club? How would not he get me in trouble when there would be kilograms of marijuana and tons of cash flying around? How could I ever quit this job even if we could manage to run the place and get rich over the next 2-3 years? How would I ever get rid of this embarrassing, childish, dangerously silly criminal guy?
By some miracle, in the car—which was used by these junkies and was usually full of smoking accessories—the cops didn't find a cigarette paper either, although they were very, very thorough. Belgian BMW wagon with a Hungarian guy, in an alley in the area full of marijuana clubs. They were sure they had me now, that they would be rewarded for such a catch. But there was nothing in the car.
I was able to show them Rachel's Belgian registration and everything, explaining that she was my girlfriend who was in Belgium at that time and we were both working for a company selling smoking accessories; I gave them my business card. I apologized for parking there and even driving into that alley with the car.
They fined me regardless. Before we started dealing with the marijuana behalf my name, we were collecting fines attributed to Adam on my name. Talk about being cheap. Apparently, he had started growing a lot of marijuana without my knowledge in a place he did not want me to find out about.
As I was driving back to Urgell, we were both very silent. I was calm but he was anxious and I could almost hear the gears spinning in his mind. Perhaps at the same moment, we both realized that if I got arrested for any reason and ended up in jail, Adam could keep the 33% profit of the coffeeshop which I had signed up for and which belonged to me.
‘Thinking quickly. Acting quicker.�
Never quick enough. The sneaker.
Adam was usually very slow,
whether he was high or low.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
By some miracle, in the car—which was used by these junkies and was usually full of smoking accessories—the cops didn't find a cigarette paper either, although they were very, very thorough. Belgian BMW wagon with a Hungarian guy, in an alley in the area full of marijuana clubs. They were sure they had me now, that they would be rewarded for such a catch. But there was nothing in the car.
I was able to show them Rachel's Belgian registration and everything, explaining that she was my girlfriend who was in Belgium at that time and we were both working for a company selling smoking accessories; I gave them my business card. I apologized for parking there and even driving into that alley with the car.
They fined me regardless. Before we started dealing with the marijuana behalf my name, we were collecting fines attributed to Adam on my name. Talk about being cheap. Apparently, he had started growing a lot of marijuana without my knowledge in a place he did not want me to find out about.
As I was driving back to Urgell, we were both very silent. I was calm but he was anxious and I could almost hear the gears spinning in his mind. Perhaps at the same moment, we both realized that if I got arrested for any reason and ended up in jail, Adam could keep the 33% profit of the coffeeshop which I had signed up for and which belonged to me.
‘Thinking quickly. Acting quicker.�
Never quick enough. The sneaker.
Adam was usually very slow,
whether he was high or low.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“The Uruguayan kid was well-spoken and intelligent; he was a 21-year-old Rasta kid from Montevideo. His name was Cristobal. He seemed really interested in the products and wanted to find a job, saying that if he did not find one soon he would have to leave his girlfriend behind in Barcelona and go back to Uruguay. He had a gorgeous Spanish girlfriend; he showed me a picture, I had met her once. She was so hot, I did not even know how he had gotten close to her. So, I thought the kid had the right motives and the necessary motivation to do this job.
His situation was not really that different from mine.
He was kind and soft-spoken; he had innocent eyes. You could tell by his voice that he was a good person and would not do anything wrong, not even if he was forced to.
I was sure he was not a Silvio-like Spaniard thief who would dare go wild stealing orders and collecting full money for half-delivered products.
Silvio might even have involved the store owners, the alleged clients, in the scam to squeeze more products out of poor fool Adam, „The Goof-Proof.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
His situation was not really that different from mine.
He was kind and soft-spoken; he had innocent eyes. You could tell by his voice that he was a good person and would not do anything wrong, not even if he was forced to.
I was sure he was not a Silvio-like Spaniard thief who would dare go wild stealing orders and collecting full money for half-delivered products.
Silvio might even have involved the store owners, the alleged clients, in the scam to squeeze more products out of poor fool Adam, „The Goof-Proof.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“- So what do you want me to do, Adam? I cannot be everywhere at the same time. I already have to be in three places at once, not just two. My Spanish is much better than it was half a year ago, but I am not native, Adam - I am not Catalan, I am not Spanish.
- Alright, alright, alright. Jesus.
- What do you mean, Boss Jesus? I am Tomas, the king of the Goys, not the Jews.
- HAHAHA. Get serious now. This costs me money.
- You’re kidding. You don’t even pay me a salary and my girlfriend is crazy about it. How do you want me to make over 10,000 Euros in net traffic a month if you are sending me to the same Estanco stores that never order and barely have any traffic, just wasting my time, Adam?
- Mario made a lot of business with Estancos.
- Bullshit, Boss. Mario, Mister Jerk Twister made monkey-business with a handful of Estancos. He sold a set of twelve crumble-cards with a free display in 2012 Spring and he never showed up again, they said. Was he even in Spain, Adam?
- That’s not the point.
- OK. So what is the point?
- Mario made a lot of business.
- Would you like to show me the total sum of wholesale figures Mario allegedly made in 2012, Boss?
- No.
- Because Mario didn’t make 10 000 Euros traffic in an entire year, Boss. Monkey-business.
- You are spending 140 Euros on these two kids for the two catalogs and wasting time here with Rachel.
- So do you want Rachel to stay here all night to laminate all this by herself, or may I help her so that we can give the catalogs to the two kids and we at least triple our potential tomorrow, so they can do sales, Adam, so they could go and visit all the Estancos as you wish?
- Yeah, sure.
- Thank you. Adam the tiny Estancos are seasonal and some of them don’t even keep our kinds of products they rely soley on tobacco sales, elder Catalan people. Clubs are opening at every corner, Adam and they need us to supply them with products. They won’t be so seasonal, they cannot rely on the tourism by law they cannot register walk-ins.
- Cccc. They register anyone, what are you talking about?
- No. Which club?
- Club Alfalfa. The custom card client, Mario and Tom made in 2012.
- Yeah, the marijuana club where there were two Police razzias both found cocaine twice behind the booth, so far.
- But they are open again. Selling weed.
- For how long Adam? How many times can they re-open after the Police had shut the club down twice already because of cocaine? How many members or employees they arrested, Adam? Would you bail me out if I go inside the wrong door one day, representing you?”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
- Alright, alright, alright. Jesus.
- What do you mean, Boss Jesus? I am Tomas, the king of the Goys, not the Jews.
- HAHAHA. Get serious now. This costs me money.
- You’re kidding. You don’t even pay me a salary and my girlfriend is crazy about it. How do you want me to make over 10,000 Euros in net traffic a month if you are sending me to the same Estanco stores that never order and barely have any traffic, just wasting my time, Adam?
- Mario made a lot of business with Estancos.
- Bullshit, Boss. Mario, Mister Jerk Twister made monkey-business with a handful of Estancos. He sold a set of twelve crumble-cards with a free display in 2012 Spring and he never showed up again, they said. Was he even in Spain, Adam?
- That’s not the point.
- OK. So what is the point?
- Mario made a lot of business.
- Would you like to show me the total sum of wholesale figures Mario allegedly made in 2012, Boss?
- No.
- Because Mario didn’t make 10 000 Euros traffic in an entire year, Boss. Monkey-business.
- You are spending 140 Euros on these two kids for the two catalogs and wasting time here with Rachel.
- So do you want Rachel to stay here all night to laminate all this by herself, or may I help her so that we can give the catalogs to the two kids and we at least triple our potential tomorrow, so they can do sales, Adam, so they could go and visit all the Estancos as you wish?
- Yeah, sure.
- Thank you. Adam the tiny Estancos are seasonal and some of them don’t even keep our kinds of products they rely soley on tobacco sales, elder Catalan people. Clubs are opening at every corner, Adam and they need us to supply them with products. They won’t be so seasonal, they cannot rely on the tourism by law they cannot register walk-ins.
- Cccc. They register anyone, what are you talking about?
- No. Which club?
- Club Alfalfa. The custom card client, Mario and Tom made in 2012.
- Yeah, the marijuana club where there were two Police razzias both found cocaine twice behind the booth, so far.
- But they are open again. Selling weed.
- For how long Adam? How many times can they re-open after the Police had shut the club down twice already because of cocaine? How many members or employees they arrested, Adam? Would you bail me out if I go inside the wrong door one day, representing you?”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“Before we had finished the third round of beers, little Johnny and I had been poisoned.
Someone must have put something in his beer and mine, but not in his wife's. Imagine that. I was texting and crying with my head down, and they were kissing in love, so we didn't pay attention to who could have reached our bottles on our table.
I don't remember how we got to Urgell while both of us were dying from poisoning. It was a couple of blocks away; uphill a few blocks and another few block left towards Plaza Espanya. I was blindly following the way my legs and muscle memory led me, and us, towards the store and Canale Vuo from Universitat.
I cannot recall a single memory frame from Nevermind to the Urgell Store, as if I had been poisoned so badly I was literally blind and unable to see. Visual blackout.
I remember the three of us,
holding onto each other
at every step of the way,
grabbing each other's arms,
squeezing a hand in pain.
We must have resembled Benicio del Toro and Johnny Depp attempting to enter Circus Circus in the movie, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, under the influence of ether. Or as Hunter S. Thompson and his lawyer must have appeared in real life.
Anything could have happened to us that night. His wife was as tiny and fragile as Sabrina; she was just a bit taller. Multiple times we almost fell on the ground as we stumbled through the streets, trying to find our balance as his wife tried to keep us both on our feet with limited success.
Johnny's wife was between us, trying to hold both of us up and lead us where my legs were taking us. I was unsure if we would live long enough to see the next day. “Realllllly.� � as Adam would say.
It was the first time I had ever met Johnny Maraudin and it was almost our last night in life.
We got closer to each other one night,
after less than three rounds of beers,
than we were with his brother Adam,
who’s only friend was Tomas, in need.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
Someone must have put something in his beer and mine, but not in his wife's. Imagine that. I was texting and crying with my head down, and they were kissing in love, so we didn't pay attention to who could have reached our bottles on our table.
I don't remember how we got to Urgell while both of us were dying from poisoning. It was a couple of blocks away; uphill a few blocks and another few block left towards Plaza Espanya. I was blindly following the way my legs and muscle memory led me, and us, towards the store and Canale Vuo from Universitat.
I cannot recall a single memory frame from Nevermind to the Urgell Store, as if I had been poisoned so badly I was literally blind and unable to see. Visual blackout.
I remember the three of us,
holding onto each other
at every step of the way,
grabbing each other's arms,
squeezing a hand in pain.
We must have resembled Benicio del Toro and Johnny Depp attempting to enter Circus Circus in the movie, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, under the influence of ether. Or as Hunter S. Thompson and his lawyer must have appeared in real life.
Anything could have happened to us that night. His wife was as tiny and fragile as Sabrina; she was just a bit taller. Multiple times we almost fell on the ground as we stumbled through the streets, trying to find our balance as his wife tried to keep us both on our feet with limited success.
Johnny's wife was between us, trying to hold both of us up and lead us where my legs were taking us. I was unsure if we would live long enough to see the next day. “Realllllly.� � as Adam would say.
It was the first time I had ever met Johnny Maraudin and it was almost our last night in life.
We got closer to each other one night,
after less than three rounds of beers,
than we were with his brother Adam,
who’s only friend was Tomas, in need.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“I was alone with Pinto in the dark,
I cried so hard that I could not stop.
I squeezed my teary eyes shut,
I was chanting a question,
over and over and over again:
„Does true love exist? Answer!”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
I cried so hard that I could not stop.
I squeezed my teary eyes shut,
I was chanting a question,
over and over and over again:
„Does true love exist? Answer!”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“At one particular moment, with my eyes closed, I was crying and asking the question over and over aloud, „Does true love exist? Does true love exist in girls? Does true love exist? Does Sabrina love me? Does true love exist? Does true love exist?â€� - I had suddenly seen a flash.
As if I was poking the Devil in the dark, staring too long into the darkness until it looked back at me as they say. I have never told anyone about this before.
I try to describe what I had seen that night in that windowless, dark, and cold place deep inside under that big, old building, with my eyes closed.
It made a half turn, flashing one of its eyes at me for a moment before disappearing again into the dark. As if it was nodding to me, I still get goosebumps years later when I try to describe it.
As if it had been standing there all along, and just tried to reassure me that it had heard my question and would answer. Quite close. Just to make me be quiet finally.
His eyes were yellow and red. I'm not actually sure if it had two eyes; I only saw one of them.
One Evil Eye.
Perhaps he had lost an eye, that's why I had seen the light of only one of them.
His eye was malicious, but not particularly. It was more tired and angry yet understanding, as if he had heard this question over a billion times before from fools like me and I did not amuse him with my question and demand. As if he was about to show me a trick he had known for a long time.
As if Satan had seen it all already. He knows all the tricks, he invented them, he inspired them all. As if he was bored of humanity already.
(There is only One Evil Eye. The planet Saturn.)
I was cuddling with Adam's cat, crying a lot, asking the darkness, about Love, and reflecting on Sabrina.
Perhaps it was merely an optical illusion. I leave it up to the reader to decide what they believe about what I was facing and how I miraculously survived, as an atheist goy, as well as who truly supported me throughout the ordeal. If anyone or anything supported me in Spain at all.
I had seen an advertisement somewhere saying that Miss Kittin would be playing on Saturday night, November 16th, 2013 in Barcelona at The Marhes.
Satan. Saturn. Saturday.
Coincidence?
Maybe. So far. Perhaps.
I knew I had to see her again after such a long time; she had been playing drum and bass in the early 2000s across the globe, and also in Budapest. I checked the map; The Marhes was next to Camp Nou, the FC Barcelona stadium. I thought of buying a bottle of champagne, which I didn't like, unless it’s Italian, but I wanted to celebrate, and I would walk along Avenida Roma to get there straight. I knew I'd get drunk; I didn't want to drive, I wanted to arrive intoxicated. I re-posted the Miss Kittin party’s flyer, on Instagram, writing underneath it :
‘All roads lead to Rome.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
As if I was poking the Devil in the dark, staring too long into the darkness until it looked back at me as they say. I have never told anyone about this before.
I try to describe what I had seen that night in that windowless, dark, and cold place deep inside under that big, old building, with my eyes closed.
It made a half turn, flashing one of its eyes at me for a moment before disappearing again into the dark. As if it was nodding to me, I still get goosebumps years later when I try to describe it.
As if it had been standing there all along, and just tried to reassure me that it had heard my question and would answer. Quite close. Just to make me be quiet finally.
His eyes were yellow and red. I'm not actually sure if it had two eyes; I only saw one of them.
One Evil Eye.
Perhaps he had lost an eye, that's why I had seen the light of only one of them.
His eye was malicious, but not particularly. It was more tired and angry yet understanding, as if he had heard this question over a billion times before from fools like me and I did not amuse him with my question and demand. As if he was about to show me a trick he had known for a long time.
As if Satan had seen it all already. He knows all the tricks, he invented them, he inspired them all. As if he was bored of humanity already.
(There is only One Evil Eye. The planet Saturn.)
I was cuddling with Adam's cat, crying a lot, asking the darkness, about Love, and reflecting on Sabrina.
Perhaps it was merely an optical illusion. I leave it up to the reader to decide what they believe about what I was facing and how I miraculously survived, as an atheist goy, as well as who truly supported me throughout the ordeal. If anyone or anything supported me in Spain at all.
I had seen an advertisement somewhere saying that Miss Kittin would be playing on Saturday night, November 16th, 2013 in Barcelona at The Marhes.
Satan. Saturn. Saturday.
Coincidence?
Maybe. So far. Perhaps.
I knew I had to see her again after such a long time; she had been playing drum and bass in the early 2000s across the globe, and also in Budapest. I checked the map; The Marhes was next to Camp Nou, the FC Barcelona stadium. I thought of buying a bottle of champagne, which I didn't like, unless it’s Italian, but I wanted to celebrate, and I would walk along Avenida Roma to get there straight. I knew I'd get drunk; I didn't want to drive, I wanted to arrive intoxicated. I re-posted the Miss Kittin party’s flyer, on Instagram, writing underneath it :
‘All roads lead to Rome.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“We were watching videos at night on her Samsung tablet or my company iPad. She showed me the Silvano Agosti 1983 Italian interview with a little Italian boy called “D'Amore si vive, We Live of Love.â€� The boy was so cute, and his thoughts seemed similar to mine and Martina's. I was so deeply in love with her. The boy on the interview was just like what our own child would be, and we agreed and laughed. “We Live of Love.â€� What a coincidence! Living. By: Love. I knew the interview from before and she was surprised at how I knew about it. I showed her on my Instagram a picture of the boy I had recently taken a screenshot of and posted. With the subtitle at the right moment under his face: “Descubrir a la vida.â€� To discover life. Together. With his one and only girlfriend, as the boy explains.
I told her multiple times that I was still unsure if she was real, or if it was all a dream; if I had only dreamed of her one night in the dark; if Pinto and I had invented her in my mind.
She was a big fan of space, but I thought she liked the mystery behind the endless space with all its questions and secrets for us humans. I thought she liked the sky and space because she recently flew from Argentina to land in my arms.
Martina and I were obsessed with Chris Rock and Eddie Murphy; we both knew all their stand-up comedies by heart. We kept replaying the best moments or faces that Chris or Eddie made. We had so much fun watching the same videos over and over that I couldn't believe it. Nobody else ever found the same moments or the same stand-ups as funny as Martina and I did. Nobody before or after found it so amusing. If I showed it to someone, they didn't understand why I was so excited about it or why racist jokes were so funny for an hour from one black comedian to the next. We were obsessed the way Eddie spoke about the „Zebra-Bitch of his dreams, his dream-wife who doesn’t know the concept of money�, saying “she should have an afro, like Angela Davis goes 'God damn it.'� We were laughing so much. Sometimes I tickled her flat belly or her ribs and she was laughing so sweetly and so much that she couldn't stop. She was begging me to stop tickling her when I barely touched her. She said “No, no, no, no� so many times so quickly and cutely that I had to stop and kiss her; I couldn't resist her lips or her person, I had to kiss and hug her.
We laughed so much at particular parts of Chris Rock's stand-up comedies that we could barely stop, almost as if we were tickling each other. We were laughing when Chris Rock was mocking Bone-Thugs-n-Harmony for singing ‘Welfare chariots� such as „The First of the Month� or when he explained that the government hates rappers, but „only the good rappers get gunned down. They could find Saddam Hussein in a cave in Iraq but couldn't arrest anyone related to Tupac Shakur’s assassination, which didn't happen in a cave in Iraq but in Las Vegas, on the Strip, not one of those side streets, but in front of Circus Circus, after a Mike Tyson fight. Now how many witnesses do you need, to arrest somebody?�
We were fascinated with Eddie Murphy, Charlie Murphy, and Chris Rock, but when I showed her Richard Prior, Doug Stanhope, Aries Spears, or George Carlin, she was no longer so impressed for some reason.
Her favorite part perhaps was when Chris Rock talked about love and relationships. He said that „you never really been in love unless you have contemplated murder; unless you have practiced your alibi in front of the mirror, staring at a can of rat poison for 45 minutes straight, you haven't been in love. And the only thing preventing you from killing your significant other was an episode of CSI.â€� He said that relationships are hard and that in order for them to work, both people need to have the same focus, which is all about: her.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
I told her multiple times that I was still unsure if she was real, or if it was all a dream; if I had only dreamed of her one night in the dark; if Pinto and I had invented her in my mind.
She was a big fan of space, but I thought she liked the mystery behind the endless space with all its questions and secrets for us humans. I thought she liked the sky and space because she recently flew from Argentina to land in my arms.
Martina and I were obsessed with Chris Rock and Eddie Murphy; we both knew all their stand-up comedies by heart. We kept replaying the best moments or faces that Chris or Eddie made. We had so much fun watching the same videos over and over that I couldn't believe it. Nobody else ever found the same moments or the same stand-ups as funny as Martina and I did. Nobody before or after found it so amusing. If I showed it to someone, they didn't understand why I was so excited about it or why racist jokes were so funny for an hour from one black comedian to the next. We were obsessed the way Eddie spoke about the „Zebra-Bitch of his dreams, his dream-wife who doesn’t know the concept of money�, saying “she should have an afro, like Angela Davis goes 'God damn it.'� We were laughing so much. Sometimes I tickled her flat belly or her ribs and she was laughing so sweetly and so much that she couldn't stop. She was begging me to stop tickling her when I barely touched her. She said “No, no, no, no� so many times so quickly and cutely that I had to stop and kiss her; I couldn't resist her lips or her person, I had to kiss and hug her.
We laughed so much at particular parts of Chris Rock's stand-up comedies that we could barely stop, almost as if we were tickling each other. We were laughing when Chris Rock was mocking Bone-Thugs-n-Harmony for singing ‘Welfare chariots� such as „The First of the Month� or when he explained that the government hates rappers, but „only the good rappers get gunned down. They could find Saddam Hussein in a cave in Iraq but couldn't arrest anyone related to Tupac Shakur’s assassination, which didn't happen in a cave in Iraq but in Las Vegas, on the Strip, not one of those side streets, but in front of Circus Circus, after a Mike Tyson fight. Now how many witnesses do you need, to arrest somebody?�
We were fascinated with Eddie Murphy, Charlie Murphy, and Chris Rock, but when I showed her Richard Prior, Doug Stanhope, Aries Spears, or George Carlin, she was no longer so impressed for some reason.
Her favorite part perhaps was when Chris Rock talked about love and relationships. He said that „you never really been in love unless you have contemplated murder; unless you have practiced your alibi in front of the mirror, staring at a can of rat poison for 45 minutes straight, you haven't been in love. And the only thing preventing you from killing your significant other was an episode of CSI.â€� He said that relationships are hard and that in order for them to work, both people need to have the same focus, which is all about: her.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“One of those days we were in Maria Vostra getting weed; while we were sitting at the bar during some festive day—I think it was Three Kings' arrival in January—Marco, the 30 some years old Argentine founding member of that club and probably the kindest of the three, received a phone call from Buenos Aires. I didn't understand it much, nor did I pay too much attention, but the tall Marco, who was usually in a great mood, suddenly ran out of the bar crying after one or two minutes. Martina told me she heard him speaking in Rioplatense on the phone. Marco's best friend had been shot dead in broad daylight in Buenos Aires at the same time; in front of her seven-year-old daughter. He had been shot five times in the chest because a thief had tried to steal his scooter and he had tried to stop them; they then shot him dead and took off with his scooter.
We were shocked, at least Marco and I while I tried to hide it - but Martina, who was only 20, wasn't. “That's how poor people are in Argentina, Tomas,� she said, pointing to her lips with her pinky as if it was a known secret. She wasn't fazed by death. I failed to realize what that meant. She must have seen people die before we met.
Perhaps I was blindfolded because I had been with Sabrina, whom I knew had something to do with Timothy's death and had gotten away with it, leaving Canada - I was unsure as to when she left exactly, and why - and why she was really unable to visit little Joel in Canada. I was also aware that Adam had not been to Israel for over 10 years, probably because he had murdered someone or done something similar when he was younger.
Perhaps I had become too accustomed to the presence of bad people; perhaps they had all become too familiar to me after all, two years after I had first met Sabrina, one year after I had first met Adam, and living in Barcelona for one and a half years at that time.
“A scooter worth 200-300 Euros is such a great value there, imagine Tomas. It's so dangerous and poor country� she said.
A few times in Urgell, Martina made a joyful noise of 'Oyyy', but she stopped because I laughed and she never said it again, no matter how much I asked her to. Perhaps the presence of the Polish workers at the other end of the place had something to do with it.
Gucho and Damian spent time with us in the kitchen-living room area every night. We ate, we smoked, and we had a great time together. They were skilled at smoking out of a bowl to get the most from the least weed.
I registered Martina at Club Marley, so if she was in the center and needed weed, she wouldn't have to go all the way up to Maria Vostra, a block from Urgell.
Club Marley was mostly run by Argentine people, so I thought she would like them too. One of those nights I was sitting in Club Marley at a table with Martina. When she went to the bathroom, an elder dispensary budtender I knew, who I met daily, told me that he didn't want to be rude, but: “Be very, very careful with this girl, Tomas. With Latinas, there is love sweeter than honey and all you ever dreamed of, but it only lasts as long as you are successful as you are right now, as long as you’re the manager.�
I said “thank you� and I meant it, but I had no time to reflect on it because he had to go. Martina was suddenly in my mind and by my side again: in love. I thought, “Yes, the guy may be right, but I trust Martina and have no reason not to.�
I knew I was broke and I knew that Martina knew that too. Even though I was a manager and seemed successful to my customers, it did not make me rich yet nor was it the reason to make Martina want to be with me.
I believe he must have caught sight of her looking at me or at another man when I wasn't paying attention. To me, she was one of a kind. I trusted her deeply and even told her about the guy's warning regarding Latinas. She showed no reaction. I didn't notice or pay attention to the fact that Martina never set foot in Club Marley again.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
We were shocked, at least Marco and I while I tried to hide it - but Martina, who was only 20, wasn't. “That's how poor people are in Argentina, Tomas,� she said, pointing to her lips with her pinky as if it was a known secret. She wasn't fazed by death. I failed to realize what that meant. She must have seen people die before we met.
Perhaps I was blindfolded because I had been with Sabrina, whom I knew had something to do with Timothy's death and had gotten away with it, leaving Canada - I was unsure as to when she left exactly, and why - and why she was really unable to visit little Joel in Canada. I was also aware that Adam had not been to Israel for over 10 years, probably because he had murdered someone or done something similar when he was younger.
Perhaps I had become too accustomed to the presence of bad people; perhaps they had all become too familiar to me after all, two years after I had first met Sabrina, one year after I had first met Adam, and living in Barcelona for one and a half years at that time.
“A scooter worth 200-300 Euros is such a great value there, imagine Tomas. It's so dangerous and poor country� she said.
A few times in Urgell, Martina made a joyful noise of 'Oyyy', but she stopped because I laughed and she never said it again, no matter how much I asked her to. Perhaps the presence of the Polish workers at the other end of the place had something to do with it.
Gucho and Damian spent time with us in the kitchen-living room area every night. We ate, we smoked, and we had a great time together. They were skilled at smoking out of a bowl to get the most from the least weed.
I registered Martina at Club Marley, so if she was in the center and needed weed, she wouldn't have to go all the way up to Maria Vostra, a block from Urgell.
Club Marley was mostly run by Argentine people, so I thought she would like them too. One of those nights I was sitting in Club Marley at a table with Martina. When she went to the bathroom, an elder dispensary budtender I knew, who I met daily, told me that he didn't want to be rude, but: “Be very, very careful with this girl, Tomas. With Latinas, there is love sweeter than honey and all you ever dreamed of, but it only lasts as long as you are successful as you are right now, as long as you’re the manager.�
I said “thank you� and I meant it, but I had no time to reflect on it because he had to go. Martina was suddenly in my mind and by my side again: in love. I thought, “Yes, the guy may be right, but I trust Martina and have no reason not to.�
I knew I was broke and I knew that Martina knew that too. Even though I was a manager and seemed successful to my customers, it did not make me rich yet nor was it the reason to make Martina want to be with me.
I believe he must have caught sight of her looking at me or at another man when I wasn't paying attention. To me, she was one of a kind. I trusted her deeply and even told her about the guy's warning regarding Latinas. She showed no reaction. I didn't notice or pay attention to the fact that Martina never set foot in Club Marley again.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“On one of those nights in January 2014, we sat next to each other in Maria Vostra, happy and content, smoking nice greens, with one of my favorite movies playing on the large flat-screen TVs: Once Upon a Time in America. I took a picture of James Woods and Robert De Niro on the TV screen in Maria Vostra's cozy corner, which I loved to share with Martina. They were both wearing hats and suits, standing next to each other. Robert de Niro looked a bit like me and his character, Noodles, (who was a goy kid in the beginning of the movie, growing up with Jewish kids) on the picture, was as naive as I was. I just realized that James Woods—who plays an evil Jewish guy in the movie, acting like Noodles' friend all along, yet taking his money, his woman, taking away his life, and trying to kill him at one point—until the point that Noodles has to escape to save his life and his beloved ones—looks almost exactly like Adam would look like if he was a bit older.
“All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.� � William Shakespeare
That sounds like an ancient spell or rather directions, instructions to me, the director instructing his actors, being one of the actors himself as well, an ancient spell, that William Shakespeare must have read it from a secret book or must have heard it somewhere. Casting characters for certain roles to act like this or like that as if they were the director’s custom made monsters. The extensions of his own will, desires and actions.
The Reconquista was a centuries-long series of battles by Christian states to expel the Muslims (Moors), who had ruled most of the Iberian Peninsula since the 8th century. The Reconquista ended on January 2, 1492.
The same year Columbus, whose statue stands atop a Corinthian custom-made column down the Port at the bottom of the Rambla, pointing with his finger toward the West, had discovered America on October 12, 1492.
William Shakespeare was born in April 1564. He had access to knowledge that had been unavailable to white people for thousands of years. He must have formed a close relationship with someone of royal lineage, or used trick, who then permitted him to enter the secret library of the Anglican Church.
“A character has to be ignorant of the future, unsure about the past, and not at all sure what he/she’s supposed to be doing.� � Anthony Burgess
Martina proudly shared with me her admiration for the Argentine author Julio Cortazar, who was renowned across South America. She quoted one of his famous lines, saying: “Vida es como una cebolla, hay que pelarla llorando,� which translates to “Life is like an onion, you have to peel it crying.�
Martina shared with me her observation that the sky in Europe felt lower compared to America. She mentioned that the clouds appeared larger in America, giving a sense of a higher and more expansive sky, while in Europe, it felt like the sky had a lower and more limiting ceiling.
“The skies are much higher in Argentina, Tomas, in all America. Here in Europe the sky is so low. In Argentina there are huge clouds and the sky is huge, Tomas.� � Martina Blaterare
“It was curious to think that the sky was the same for everybody, in Eurasia or Eastasia as well as here. And the people under the sky were also very much the same--everywhere, all over the world, hundreds or thousands of millions of people just like this, people ignorant of one another’s existence, held apart by walls of hatred and lies, and yet almost exactly the same--people who had never learned to think but were storing up in their hearts and bellies and muscles the power that would one day overturn the world.â€� â€� George Orwell, 1984”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.� � William Shakespeare
That sounds like an ancient spell or rather directions, instructions to me, the director instructing his actors, being one of the actors himself as well, an ancient spell, that William Shakespeare must have read it from a secret book or must have heard it somewhere. Casting characters for certain roles to act like this or like that as if they were the director’s custom made monsters. The extensions of his own will, desires and actions.
The Reconquista was a centuries-long series of battles by Christian states to expel the Muslims (Moors), who had ruled most of the Iberian Peninsula since the 8th century. The Reconquista ended on January 2, 1492.
The same year Columbus, whose statue stands atop a Corinthian custom-made column down the Port at the bottom of the Rambla, pointing with his finger toward the West, had discovered America on October 12, 1492.
William Shakespeare was born in April 1564. He had access to knowledge that had been unavailable to white people for thousands of years. He must have formed a close relationship with someone of royal lineage, or used trick, who then permitted him to enter the secret library of the Anglican Church.
“A character has to be ignorant of the future, unsure about the past, and not at all sure what he/she’s supposed to be doing.� � Anthony Burgess
Martina proudly shared with me her admiration for the Argentine author Julio Cortazar, who was renowned across South America. She quoted one of his famous lines, saying: “Vida es como una cebolla, hay que pelarla llorando,� which translates to “Life is like an onion, you have to peel it crying.�
Martina shared with me her observation that the sky in Europe felt lower compared to America. She mentioned that the clouds appeared larger in America, giving a sense of a higher and more expansive sky, while in Europe, it felt like the sky had a lower and more limiting ceiling.
“The skies are much higher in Argentina, Tomas, in all America. Here in Europe the sky is so low. In Argentina there are huge clouds and the sky is huge, Tomas.� � Martina Blaterare
“It was curious to think that the sky was the same for everybody, in Eurasia or Eastasia as well as here. And the people under the sky were also very much the same--everywhere, all over the world, hundreds or thousands of millions of people just like this, people ignorant of one another’s existence, held apart by walls of hatred and lies, and yet almost exactly the same--people who had never learned to think but were storing up in their hearts and bellies and muscles the power that would one day overturn the world.â€� â€� George Orwell, 1984”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“Ferran was not as mad the next day; he even cracked a smile and seemed to be normal. Nice to Martina. He had brought a pair of glasses for Adam, made in Israel, and asked me to make sure that I gave them into his hands. He said he would not be able to see without them.
I wish I had known that I was supposed to break those glasses.
Interestingly, Ferran also handed me Adam's brand new Israeli passport, although Adam had not been in Israel for over 10 years. The signature in Adam Maraudin's Israeli passport was the same signature as the letter “L� in Tom Titelany's French passport, which I had photocopy of. How did they do that without Adam entering Israel or sitting in a jail in Israel? It must be: “Magic.�
Martina was reading a book, George Orwell's 1984, in the store. One of my favorite books of all time. One of my favorite authors of all time. The strange thing was only that Martina should have read it before in high school. In Hungary, it was part of the curriculum, being a crucial piece. To recognize the Evil and terror in all its forms and shapes.
She was so cute, reading in wintertime Barcelona, in Urgell, that I couldn’t just watch her; I had to interrupt her and kiss her from time to time, as I checked up on her while working in the office and the storage during the day when I stopped by. Poor baby, she was bored. Somehow like Sabrina had been, arriving in the same rhythm at the end of summer, with not much to do in wintertime Barcelona.
But. Drugs. And. For. Some. Reason. In. Secret. Behind. My. Back. With. Strangers.
I didn't consider how it would sound when I told Martina Sabrina's story - how she had fallen so low, becoming unemployed, sleeping with strangers, and indulging in drugs and alcohol. It didn't come across as a success story at all. I thought.
“The Dream of Venus� by Salvador Dali.
Also, Martina had come from the Southern hemisphere at the end of winter there, and had arrived in the Northern hemisphere when winter started here. She was in the middle of her personal year-long winter, reading so cutely with her cute glasses in the dark Urgell store upstairs with Pinto cat. Martina was wearing glasses for reading only; they had a cute frame. She seemed like she was just waiting for something to happen, almost as if she was waiting for Santa Claus to arrive.
And I should have been listening to my instincts, because that was precisely what was happening, what she was doing - waiting for Santa to appear.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
I wish I had known that I was supposed to break those glasses.
Interestingly, Ferran also handed me Adam's brand new Israeli passport, although Adam had not been in Israel for over 10 years. The signature in Adam Maraudin's Israeli passport was the same signature as the letter “L� in Tom Titelany's French passport, which I had photocopy of. How did they do that without Adam entering Israel or sitting in a jail in Israel? It must be: “Magic.�
Martina was reading a book, George Orwell's 1984, in the store. One of my favorite books of all time. One of my favorite authors of all time. The strange thing was only that Martina should have read it before in high school. In Hungary, it was part of the curriculum, being a crucial piece. To recognize the Evil and terror in all its forms and shapes.
She was so cute, reading in wintertime Barcelona, in Urgell, that I couldn’t just watch her; I had to interrupt her and kiss her from time to time, as I checked up on her while working in the office and the storage during the day when I stopped by. Poor baby, she was bored. Somehow like Sabrina had been, arriving in the same rhythm at the end of summer, with not much to do in wintertime Barcelona.
But. Drugs. And. For. Some. Reason. In. Secret. Behind. My. Back. With. Strangers.
I didn't consider how it would sound when I told Martina Sabrina's story - how she had fallen so low, becoming unemployed, sleeping with strangers, and indulging in drugs and alcohol. It didn't come across as a success story at all. I thought.
“The Dream of Venus� by Salvador Dali.
Also, Martina had come from the Southern hemisphere at the end of winter there, and had arrived in the Northern hemisphere when winter started here. She was in the middle of her personal year-long winter, reading so cutely with her cute glasses in the dark Urgell store upstairs with Pinto cat. Martina was wearing glasses for reading only; they had a cute frame. She seemed like she was just waiting for something to happen, almost as if she was waiting for Santa Claus to arrive.
And I should have been listening to my instincts, because that was precisely what was happening, what she was doing - waiting for Santa to appear.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“- Can you keep secrets?
- Yesss.
- We are going to make one of the biggest coffeeshops in Barcelona with my boss, Adam.
- Realllllly?
- This Adam guy is kind of my friend and kind of my boss, but I don't trust him; he is a bad guy. “Bad to the bone.� His father is an even darker figure. I am pretty sure that both have killed before, hired to kill people.
- I am from Buenos Airessss.
- I understand honey but you don’t know this kind of people, these f…g desert roses.
- There are Jewish people in Argentina too.
- I am sure, baby, but these are not regular Jewish people, not regular Israeli people. These people are dark. Hocus-pocus. Criminal minds. Do you understand?
- I guessss.
- There are a lot of criminals in this town. They will try to take our club away, just like the Camorra is taking away other people's clubs. Just like that. Do you understand?
- Yessss.
- I know them; they are one of my clients. If there is anyone in the world who could make a deal with them, it would be me and Adam. He cannot cross me and I cannot cross him either. I would never do that. I am not sure about him though what is on his mind, I can tell there is something he is orchestrating I just don’t know what exactly, but he is as fishy as Sabrina. The problem is that only my ex-girlfriend knows about my signature on the non-profit organization, which is the base of the coffeeshop, the marijuana grow and the smoker club. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- We are talking about millions of Euros monthly cashflow. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- By telling you everything now, you are becoming my trusted; your life is in danger too if they manage to find a gap between us. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- I'm not sure what they're up to. They owe me already more money than anyone in this town would murder for. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- Now you know about it, too. Sabrina didn't care; she didn't think I would make it happen. She doesn’t know about the place. Only you know about it and us. But she will figure it out somehow; she will try to take your position, slipping between the criminals. Do you know how to play chess?
- Not really.
- OK then. Imagine this as a throne, these chairs you are sitting on top of. OK. No one can remove you from this throne being my girlfriend, no one can stand between us. No one can take the club away from us. They have no chance. Understand?
- Yesss.
- As long as you stick with me, she cannot do anything; no one can mess with us. Do you understand?
- Yes. Everyone in the world would try to take your place, being my girlfriend, and they will try to push you out from this position, which only me I can give you, with Love. They will tell you lies about me and about themselves who’s club is it. Do you understand?
- Yes. But why?
- Because Rachel and Tom, the other two founding members of the club, Golan, I signed up with, are Adam's puppets. I don't trust any one of them. If they kill me, they never have to pay me what they owe me already, plus they can keep the 33% of the club which belongs to me. 100% Adam would keep. Do you understand now?
- Yessss.
- We will pull all the trash out and remodel the place without any permit, under the rug, in secret.
- I sssseeee. (Eye. See.)”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
- Yesss.
- We are going to make one of the biggest coffeeshops in Barcelona with my boss, Adam.
- Realllllly?
- This Adam guy is kind of my friend and kind of my boss, but I don't trust him; he is a bad guy. “Bad to the bone.� His father is an even darker figure. I am pretty sure that both have killed before, hired to kill people.
- I am from Buenos Airessss.
- I understand honey but you don’t know this kind of people, these f…g desert roses.
- There are Jewish people in Argentina too.
- I am sure, baby, but these are not regular Jewish people, not regular Israeli people. These people are dark. Hocus-pocus. Criminal minds. Do you understand?
- I guessss.
- There are a lot of criminals in this town. They will try to take our club away, just like the Camorra is taking away other people's clubs. Just like that. Do you understand?
- Yessss.
- I know them; they are one of my clients. If there is anyone in the world who could make a deal with them, it would be me and Adam. He cannot cross me and I cannot cross him either. I would never do that. I am not sure about him though what is on his mind, I can tell there is something he is orchestrating I just don’t know what exactly, but he is as fishy as Sabrina. The problem is that only my ex-girlfriend knows about my signature on the non-profit organization, which is the base of the coffeeshop, the marijuana grow and the smoker club. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- We are talking about millions of Euros monthly cashflow. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- By telling you everything now, you are becoming my trusted; your life is in danger too if they manage to find a gap between us. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- I'm not sure what they're up to. They owe me already more money than anyone in this town would murder for. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- Now you know about it, too. Sabrina didn't care; she didn't think I would make it happen. She doesn’t know about the place. Only you know about it and us. But she will figure it out somehow; she will try to take your position, slipping between the criminals. Do you know how to play chess?
- Not really.
- OK then. Imagine this as a throne, these chairs you are sitting on top of. OK. No one can remove you from this throne being my girlfriend, no one can stand between us. No one can take the club away from us. They have no chance. Understand?
- Yesss.
- As long as you stick with me, she cannot do anything; no one can mess with us. Do you understand?
- Yes. Everyone in the world would try to take your place, being my girlfriend, and they will try to push you out from this position, which only me I can give you, with Love. They will tell you lies about me and about themselves who’s club is it. Do you understand?
- Yes. But why?
- Because Rachel and Tom, the other two founding members of the club, Golan, I signed up with, are Adam's puppets. I don't trust any one of them. If they kill me, they never have to pay me what they owe me already, plus they can keep the 33% of the club which belongs to me. 100% Adam would keep. Do you understand now?
- Yessss.
- We will pull all the trash out and remodel the place without any permit, under the rug, in secret.
- I sssseeee. (Eye. See.)”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“- Can you keep secrets?
- Yesss.
- We are going to make one of the biggest coffeeshops in Barcelona with my boss, Adam.
- Realllllly?
- This Adam guy is kind of my friend and kind of my boss, but I don't trust him; he is a bad guy. “Bad to the bone.� His father is an even darker figure. I am pretty sure that both have killed before, hired to kill people.
- I am from Buenos Airessss.
- I understand honey but you don’t know this kind of people, these f…g desert roses.
- There are Jewish people in Argentina too.
- I am sure, baby, but these are not regular Jewish people, not regular Israeli people. These people are dark. Hocus-pocus. Criminal minds. Do you understand?
- I guessss.
- There are a lot of criminals in this town. They will try to take our club away, just like the Camorra is taking away other people's clubs. Just like that. Do you understand?
- Yessss.
- I know them; they are one of my clients. If there is anyone in the world who could make a deal with them, it would be me and Adam. He cannot cross me and I cannot cross him either. I would never do that. I am not sure about him though what is on his mind, I can tell there is something he is orchestrating I just don’t know what exactly, but he is as fishy as Sabrina. The problem is that only my ex-girlfriend knows about my signature on the non-profit organization, which is the base of the coffeeshop, the marijuana grow and the smoker club. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- We are talking about millions of Euros monthly cashflow. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- By telling you everything now, you are becoming my trusted; your life is in danger too if they manage to find a gap between us. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- I'm not sure what they're up to. They owe me already more money than anyone in this town would murder for. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- Now you know about it, too. Sabrina didn't care; she didn't think I would make it happen. She doesn’t know about the place. Only you know about it and us. But she will figure it out somehow; she will try to take your position, slipping between the criminals. Do you know how to play chess?
- Not really.
- OK then. Imagine this as a throne, these chairs you are sitting on top of. OK. No one can remove you from this throne being my girlfriend, no one can stand between us. No one can take the club away from us. They have no chance. Understand?
- Yesss.
- As long as you stick with me, she cannot do anything; no one can mess with us. Do you understand?
- Yesss.
- Everyone in the world would try to take your place, being my girlfriend, and they will try to push you out from this position, which only me I can give you, with Love. They will tell you lies about me and about themselves who’s club is it. Do you understand?
- Yes. But why?
- Because Rachel and Tom, the other two founding members of the club, Golan, I signed up with, are Adam's puppets. I don't trust any one of them. If they kill me, they never have to pay me what they owe me already, plus they can keep the 33% of the club which belongs to me. 100% Adam would keep. Do you understand now?
- Yessss.
- We will pull all the trash out and remodel the place without any permit, under the rug, in secret.
- I sssseeee. (Eye. See.)”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
- Yesss.
- We are going to make one of the biggest coffeeshops in Barcelona with my boss, Adam.
- Realllllly?
- This Adam guy is kind of my friend and kind of my boss, but I don't trust him; he is a bad guy. “Bad to the bone.� His father is an even darker figure. I am pretty sure that both have killed before, hired to kill people.
- I am from Buenos Airessss.
- I understand honey but you don’t know this kind of people, these f…g desert roses.
- There are Jewish people in Argentina too.
- I am sure, baby, but these are not regular Jewish people, not regular Israeli people. These people are dark. Hocus-pocus. Criminal minds. Do you understand?
- I guessss.
- There are a lot of criminals in this town. They will try to take our club away, just like the Camorra is taking away other people's clubs. Just like that. Do you understand?
- Yessss.
- I know them; they are one of my clients. If there is anyone in the world who could make a deal with them, it would be me and Adam. He cannot cross me and I cannot cross him either. I would never do that. I am not sure about him though what is on his mind, I can tell there is something he is orchestrating I just don’t know what exactly, but he is as fishy as Sabrina. The problem is that only my ex-girlfriend knows about my signature on the non-profit organization, which is the base of the coffeeshop, the marijuana grow and the smoker club. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- We are talking about millions of Euros monthly cashflow. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- By telling you everything now, you are becoming my trusted; your life is in danger too if they manage to find a gap between us. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- I'm not sure what they're up to. They owe me already more money than anyone in this town would murder for. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- Now you know about it, too. Sabrina didn't care; she didn't think I would make it happen. She doesn’t know about the place. Only you know about it and us. But she will figure it out somehow; she will try to take your position, slipping between the criminals. Do you know how to play chess?
- Not really.
- OK then. Imagine this as a throne, these chairs you are sitting on top of. OK. No one can remove you from this throne being my girlfriend, no one can stand between us. No one can take the club away from us. They have no chance. Understand?
- Yesss.
- As long as you stick with me, she cannot do anything; no one can mess with us. Do you understand?
- Yesss.
- Everyone in the world would try to take your place, being my girlfriend, and they will try to push you out from this position, which only me I can give you, with Love. They will tell you lies about me and about themselves who’s club is it. Do you understand?
- Yes. But why?
- Because Rachel and Tom, the other two founding members of the club, Golan, I signed up with, are Adam's puppets. I don't trust any one of them. If they kill me, they never have to pay me what they owe me already, plus they can keep the 33% of the club which belongs to me. 100% Adam would keep. Do you understand now?
- Yessss.
- We will pull all the trash out and remodel the place without any permit, under the rug, in secret.
- I sssseeee. (Eye. See.)”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
“I took a black and white photograph, which I also posted on Instagram. Her New Balance shoes and her feet crossed, hanging as she sat atop the pile of aluminum chairs, against the backdrop of the many legs of the chairs shining in the street lights in contrast to her dark shoes and leggings, were so captivating. There was a lightness in the way she sat there with her crossed legs dangling, as if she was perched on a cloud and it was the most natural thing as she was my angel. I was still unsure if she really existed or if I had only made her up with Pinto cat one night. It was all like a lucid dream. I was so glad for us and for us becoming rich soon too. I was so glad I could provide her with a future in Europe. I was so glad we would be rich and happy and we would be able to make all our dreams come true and travel the world freely together. I can show her Italy and Hungary and Europe. We can pick where do we want to live or make family.
I knew all my life, all my work had led to this girl, this moment, and this future. Ours.
She started to rap in Spanish in the Rioplatense dialect as I started to record her. „Loco, loco…� - she was so cute, it sounded like she had learned it on the streets of Buenos Aires, skipping school. She was amazing - so young, so true, so natural and pure and cute. I couldn't get enough of her. I wanted to make kids with her. With only her. Nobody else.
By the wall of the church and the bar tables, there were a bunch of metal mobile railings with the Ajuntamiento de Barcelona logo in the middle of each of them. I told Martina to squat down to the level of the Ajuntamiento sign, and before I could finish my sentence, she was already doing it. She posed with the mobile railings, making a funny, cool and happy face while squeezing the Ajuntamiento logo between two of her fingers and pointing at it with her other hand, as if we were mocking the authorities of the Ajuntamiento. She was reading my mind. Like she knew magic.
She was such a good girl. She was so pretty, smart and sexy.
She was smiling, biting her lower lip, excited, turned on, and in love, I thought, looking like a bunny, or like Whitney Houston on the Brazilian live concert video, so I began to call her “Bunny�. I showed her how Whitney was smiling the same way. I was so blind to see the connection. (“The Cocaine Queen�)
I was so much in love with her, so under her spell, I just really wanted her to be the One, I guess.
I explained to her that the Camorra was one of my costumers and they had a club close by too and they were taking away other people's coffeeshops, menacing their lives and their families'.
I explained to her that we were going to do all demolition and remodeling without any permit, without telling a word to anyone. I told her that we would lie to the residents of the building above us about what we were going to do there for months and months. I told her that she must keep it as our secret. She was nodding happily and she seemed happy that I trusted her. I explained everything to her, I told her about Rachel and Tom and I signing the founding document at Amina's office at the beginning of the same year, 2013. She seemed to understand the weight of all I told her and the reasons why I told her about it all, so she would know, so she wouldn't make a mistake saying the wrong thing in the wrong place at the wrong time. I asked her to pay attention to her surroundings in Barcelona from then on, as there were a lot of criminals, and she was a very pretty girl - not only my girlfriend. She seemed to take it as a privilege to be my girlfriend, and she seemed eternally happy, as was I. I told her that she was the only person I fully trusted.
I wanted to send the video of Martina rapping on WhatsApp to Adam, but Martina told me I shouldn't because it was late and, at the end, Adam was my boss. “Yeah but he is not really my boss, in Spain, I am the boss.”
―
I knew all my life, all my work had led to this girl, this moment, and this future. Ours.
She started to rap in Spanish in the Rioplatense dialect as I started to record her. „Loco, loco…� - she was so cute, it sounded like she had learned it on the streets of Buenos Aires, skipping school. She was amazing - so young, so true, so natural and pure and cute. I couldn't get enough of her. I wanted to make kids with her. With only her. Nobody else.
By the wall of the church and the bar tables, there were a bunch of metal mobile railings with the Ajuntamiento de Barcelona logo in the middle of each of them. I told Martina to squat down to the level of the Ajuntamiento sign, and before I could finish my sentence, she was already doing it. She posed with the mobile railings, making a funny, cool and happy face while squeezing the Ajuntamiento logo between two of her fingers and pointing at it with her other hand, as if we were mocking the authorities of the Ajuntamiento. She was reading my mind. Like she knew magic.
She was such a good girl. She was so pretty, smart and sexy.
She was smiling, biting her lower lip, excited, turned on, and in love, I thought, looking like a bunny, or like Whitney Houston on the Brazilian live concert video, so I began to call her “Bunny�. I showed her how Whitney was smiling the same way. I was so blind to see the connection. (“The Cocaine Queen�)
I was so much in love with her, so under her spell, I just really wanted her to be the One, I guess.
I explained to her that the Camorra was one of my costumers and they had a club close by too and they were taking away other people's coffeeshops, menacing their lives and their families'.
I explained to her that we were going to do all demolition and remodeling without any permit, without telling a word to anyone. I told her that we would lie to the residents of the building above us about what we were going to do there for months and months. I told her that she must keep it as our secret. She was nodding happily and she seemed happy that I trusted her. I explained everything to her, I told her about Rachel and Tom and I signing the founding document at Amina's office at the beginning of the same year, 2013. She seemed to understand the weight of all I told her and the reasons why I told her about it all, so she would know, so she wouldn't make a mistake saying the wrong thing in the wrong place at the wrong time. I asked her to pay attention to her surroundings in Barcelona from then on, as there were a lot of criminals, and she was a very pretty girl - not only my girlfriend. She seemed to take it as a privilege to be my girlfriend, and she seemed eternally happy, as was I. I told her that she was the only person I fully trusted.
I wanted to send the video of Martina rapping on WhatsApp to Adam, but Martina told me I shouldn't because it was late and, at the end, Adam was my boss. “Yeah but he is not really my boss, in Spain, I am the boss.”
―
“Of course, Adam was still counting days the old way, as Sunday was the first day of the week, so he was misinforming me as to which day his father actually arrived in Spain, seemingly by accident, by mistake. Perhaps it was a mistake that Adam had confused the European calendar with the Israeli calendar from time to time; perhaps it was not a mistake.
Ferran actually arrived the following day, Tuesday, according to the Gregorian calendar and not Monday, when we had all been preparing for his arrival with Martina in vain. I had wanted to introduce her to the old man nicely. However, Tuesday, when he was scheduled to arrive, Mario Larese - Mister Twister - showed up, banging the glass of the store-front door, echoing throughout the entire store and upstairs apartment, as if he was about to break the glass if I did not go down to open it. He was knocking on the plain, large glass of the door with either a lighter or with his metal ring; I don't know which, but it was terrible. I knew Ferran could arrive at any moment, so I told Martina it might be best if she went home to Paola and let me take care of the business. I couldn't ignore Mario, who was almost breaking the glass, seemingly because he had seen my scooter parked in front of the store. I opened the door and he started pushing his way inside, saying, “Let's smoke a joint and drink a coffee.� I replied, “Slow down, cowboy. I've got company, I'm expecting more company, and I just woke up. I have no time now; sorry, Mario.� He kept banging the door because he wanted to smoke somewhere early in the morning, and Canale Vuo was still closed. I was so tempted to slap him. Unintentionally, I let slip that I was expecting Ferran, which only increased his refusal to leave. Theatrical. Dramatic. He wasn't going to get out of my store, my way, my day, my life, my struggle, or my schedule.
Meanwhile, the same time, Nico was bugging me on the phone to make sure I delivered a box of 1,000 cones for La Silla because they needed it to make pre-rolled joints for their smokers. They sold 2-3,000 pre-rolled joints a week, ordering two boxes weekly, thus making me waste my time for free. I started to think it had all been planned just to make me lose time every week. They sold 3,000 joints a week and yet couldn't afford more than two boxes of cones to purchase to keep up. Tuesday morning was so urgent for La Silla to get those 1,000 brown cones right then. Just for Nico's 5-euro commission and so he wouldn't be embarrassed in front of his friends at La Silla with his sales performance - no problem. I couldn't kick out Mario, and I didn't want to kick out Martina, who apparently didn't want to leave. I asked them to leave, but Mario was leaning on the kitchen table and unable to look up or turn toward me to meet my gaze. Martina was looking at me angrily. So, I told them both, “OK then, stay here; let the old man inside once he arrives. I have to deliver this box of cones to La Silla right away, but I will be right back. 20 minutes tops.�
Adam had also failed to inform me that he had copied a set of keys for his dad at one point, and he had somehow sent them to Israel by mail, I guess. Martina did not need to stay in the store to let Ferran in, but I did not know that. Adam was always secretive and brief with his words, as if it cost him money to say words out of his mouth or dictate to Rachel what to write in an email or what he was supposed to tell me on the phone. I thought that Martina had to stay to let Ferran into the store in case he arrived just when I went to La Mesa to do a favor for Nico. I was on my way back to Urgell from La Silla, when Adam suddenly called me from Amsterdam, screaming on the phone.”
―
Ferran actually arrived the following day, Tuesday, according to the Gregorian calendar and not Monday, when we had all been preparing for his arrival with Martina in vain. I had wanted to introduce her to the old man nicely. However, Tuesday, when he was scheduled to arrive, Mario Larese - Mister Twister - showed up, banging the glass of the store-front door, echoing throughout the entire store and upstairs apartment, as if he was about to break the glass if I did not go down to open it. He was knocking on the plain, large glass of the door with either a lighter or with his metal ring; I don't know which, but it was terrible. I knew Ferran could arrive at any moment, so I told Martina it might be best if she went home to Paola and let me take care of the business. I couldn't ignore Mario, who was almost breaking the glass, seemingly because he had seen my scooter parked in front of the store. I opened the door and he started pushing his way inside, saying, “Let's smoke a joint and drink a coffee.� I replied, “Slow down, cowboy. I've got company, I'm expecting more company, and I just woke up. I have no time now; sorry, Mario.� He kept banging the door because he wanted to smoke somewhere early in the morning, and Canale Vuo was still closed. I was so tempted to slap him. Unintentionally, I let slip that I was expecting Ferran, which only increased his refusal to leave. Theatrical. Dramatic. He wasn't going to get out of my store, my way, my day, my life, my struggle, or my schedule.
Meanwhile, the same time, Nico was bugging me on the phone to make sure I delivered a box of 1,000 cones for La Silla because they needed it to make pre-rolled joints for their smokers. They sold 2-3,000 pre-rolled joints a week, ordering two boxes weekly, thus making me waste my time for free. I started to think it had all been planned just to make me lose time every week. They sold 3,000 joints a week and yet couldn't afford more than two boxes of cones to purchase to keep up. Tuesday morning was so urgent for La Silla to get those 1,000 brown cones right then. Just for Nico's 5-euro commission and so he wouldn't be embarrassed in front of his friends at La Silla with his sales performance - no problem. I couldn't kick out Mario, and I didn't want to kick out Martina, who apparently didn't want to leave. I asked them to leave, but Mario was leaning on the kitchen table and unable to look up or turn toward me to meet my gaze. Martina was looking at me angrily. So, I told them both, “OK then, stay here; let the old man inside once he arrives. I have to deliver this box of cones to La Silla right away, but I will be right back. 20 minutes tops.�
Adam had also failed to inform me that he had copied a set of keys for his dad at one point, and he had somehow sent them to Israel by mail, I guess. Martina did not need to stay in the store to let Ferran in, but I did not know that. Adam was always secretive and brief with his words, as if it cost him money to say words out of his mouth or dictate to Rachel what to write in an email or what he was supposed to tell me on the phone. I thought that Martina had to stay to let Ferran into the store in case he arrived just when I went to La Mesa to do a favor for Nico. I was on my way back to Urgell from La Silla, when Adam suddenly called me from Amsterdam, screaming on the phone.”
―
“I knew exactly what was going on, but I unfortunately didn't have a firearm.
(Adam have most likely offered someone 6000 Euros, to end this all, then and there. Tomas. 10%)
Only a mini baseball bat. A Louisville Slugger. And Martina’s weapon of choice: a broom. The witches� vehicle.
Before I could tell him to go to Hell, a neighbor exited the building and let the stranger claiming to be from the gas company inside. Now the stranger dressed in black was running up the 94 stairs.
I could hear his footsteps approaching. I didn't have time to react, grab the biggest knife from the kitchen, and stand by my entrance door. He was already upstairs, right outside my apartment door.
He began knocking loudly and aggressively, whether with his metal ring or a lighter.
I looked through the peephole, but he had covered it with a black folder, which I soon realized was an iPad. Covering his face. Covering my eyes.
The same speech repeated played through the iPad, ensuring that I wouldn't recognize his voice and open the door.
„I am from the gas company, looking for Tomas Adam Nyapi.�
He kept playing in a prerecorded voice on the iPad outside my door, "Open up", "It's the gas company", and "We are looking for Tomas Adam Nyapi." I was trying to pay attention and make sense of it all, trying to figure out who it could be. But the Catalan girl couldn't keep quiet and yelled at the person in Spanish with her strong Catalan accent, after a minute or two: "Who are you and what do you want? Go away before I call the police!"
Suddenly, the stranger began sprinting down the 94 stairs upon realizing that I wasn't alone. In case the reason for his visit wasn't clear enough.
He was running so fast that he nearly stumbled, clearly determined to prevent me from catching up with him. I swung open my door and peered down the stairwell, straining my eyes to discern his identity, but the darkness obscured any details in the vertical tunnel below.
By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, I hurried to my loggia to catch a glimpse of him. He was tall and thin, with long legs, and his strides were hurried and distinct, unlike anyone else. Deep inside, I knew it was Mario Larese. Mister Twister. I recognized his movements, but it wasn't until 2023 that I had concrete confirmation. An evidence orgy.
Mario had been sent to either spy on me or seek revenge for my closure of the club, with him being responsible for triggering the landslide, the avalanche. The mafia had dispatched Mario to finish what he/they had started. With Adam and the rest of them.
Mario. Adam. Nico. Ferran. „The Beatles.� „Plus Yoko.�
The Nazi junkies had sent him to deliver the final blow, the fatal shot, the kill. It was Mario who was accountable - the thief, the liar, the "Romanian gypsy."
To deliver „The Final Solution�, to sever ties. And keep that 60,000 as well of course.
Shortly after the stranger (Mario) had left our address Martina called me on the phone.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
(Adam have most likely offered someone 6000 Euros, to end this all, then and there. Tomas. 10%)
Only a mini baseball bat. A Louisville Slugger. And Martina’s weapon of choice: a broom. The witches� vehicle.
Before I could tell him to go to Hell, a neighbor exited the building and let the stranger claiming to be from the gas company inside. Now the stranger dressed in black was running up the 94 stairs.
I could hear his footsteps approaching. I didn't have time to react, grab the biggest knife from the kitchen, and stand by my entrance door. He was already upstairs, right outside my apartment door.
He began knocking loudly and aggressively, whether with his metal ring or a lighter.
I looked through the peephole, but he had covered it with a black folder, which I soon realized was an iPad. Covering his face. Covering my eyes.
The same speech repeated played through the iPad, ensuring that I wouldn't recognize his voice and open the door.
„I am from the gas company, looking for Tomas Adam Nyapi.�
He kept playing in a prerecorded voice on the iPad outside my door, "Open up", "It's the gas company", and "We are looking for Tomas Adam Nyapi." I was trying to pay attention and make sense of it all, trying to figure out who it could be. But the Catalan girl couldn't keep quiet and yelled at the person in Spanish with her strong Catalan accent, after a minute or two: "Who are you and what do you want? Go away before I call the police!"
Suddenly, the stranger began sprinting down the 94 stairs upon realizing that I wasn't alone. In case the reason for his visit wasn't clear enough.
He was running so fast that he nearly stumbled, clearly determined to prevent me from catching up with him. I swung open my door and peered down the stairwell, straining my eyes to discern his identity, but the darkness obscured any details in the vertical tunnel below.
By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, I hurried to my loggia to catch a glimpse of him. He was tall and thin, with long legs, and his strides were hurried and distinct, unlike anyone else. Deep inside, I knew it was Mario Larese. Mister Twister. I recognized his movements, but it wasn't until 2023 that I had concrete confirmation. An evidence orgy.
Mario had been sent to either spy on me or seek revenge for my closure of the club, with him being responsible for triggering the landslide, the avalanche. The mafia had dispatched Mario to finish what he/they had started. With Adam and the rest of them.
Mario. Adam. Nico. Ferran. „The Beatles.� „Plus Yoko.�
The Nazi junkies had sent him to deliver the final blow, the fatal shot, the kill. It was Mario who was accountable - the thief, the liar, the "Romanian gypsy."
To deliver „The Final Solution�, to sever ties. And keep that 60,000 as well of course.
Shortly after the stranger (Mario) had left our address Martina called me on the phone.”
― BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA
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