New York. About two months before Day I
Once for all, he disagreed with Woody Allen. When he came to New York fifteen years ago, people would hit or kill you, that’s fine… but at least you were able to smoke a cigarette somewhere (over the rainbow or not). Now, the unpleasant sensation of being a smoker in New York is just comparable with being a leprous in Christ’s times. Smoking is forbidden in every corner of the city and, if you can find a secret and mysterious rat hole where smoking is allowed, be sure that a group of crazy anti-smoking morons will be there to spit you.
He was fed up with the situation, but not so much to leave the city that, after all, he liked, or, of course, not so crazy to stop smoking. This morning, he went to the tobacconist’s as always and bought the longest and thickest cigar he could. You must take care of walking smoking your great cigar in public squares, parks, shelters for down-and-outs or anything you can think or imagine… Finally, if you attain it, you will win the prize of being insulted, spitted, hit or lacerated by any goofy pedestrian.
However, if you are really lucky (and our character was), you will be in your first objective: the old Michael’s old library.
‘Nice to meet you, Alex!’ Old Michael said it without taking the cigarette out of his mouth, reason which distinguishes a stupid man from a wise one.
Alex smiled as usual and continued smoking his cigar in the only place in all New York City where liberty was still a word in the dictionary for smokers. Alex loved that place and loved that man (it’s metaphorical, of course). Old Michael was the only librarian who can help you to obtain a different book to Harry Potter. He could get any title from any country, any title in any language… of course you would need two simple things: smoking and money (and if you didn’t smoke, it was not a problem for Old Michael).
‘I have great news for you, Alex! Remember when they uncensored that adult channel on TV? This is even better!’ Old Michael, as you could see beyond his wrinkled face, was one of the latest people in the whole world with humor sense. ‘I have your book!’
Alex looked surprised at him.
‘Really? You have it?’ When old Michael showed Alex the real book, Alex felt something between happiness and melancholy: that book, he supposed lost for years really, existed and he had now one of the copies in his hands.
‘Where did you find it, Michael?’ Alex asked.
‘My profession has its own secrets, my friend! And now and for free, I have one gift for us…’ Old Michael smiled and showed Alex two brilliant, marvelous and bright Cuban cigars. ‘Directly from the thighs of a Cuban beauty woman, here they are two of the best cigars in the world!’
‘Weren’t they forbidden?’ Alex asked and not by ignorance, he preferred his friend’s pride.
‘Do you see any policeman here, Alex?’
Alex was very sorry with the situation. He had in one hand the green pill (to smoke a great cigar) and he had the red pill in the other (to begin to read the book of his dreams immediately).
He took a look to the title of the book: Flu Project.
Finally, and because patience is the virtue of the wise, he took the right decision: first, as usual, the pleasure.
We can always find a better time for culture or books.
Author: Martin Cid (serial novel: Fake Game) http://www.martincid.com