Tag Archives: barcelona


What is it then that you are doing, Simona, if it is not a secret? He asks. I keep silent. Do you really want to know? I ask him. Of course, why would I not want to know what such a beautiful lady is doing? “Such a beautiful lady”  is already pushing him towards to the gate of boredom, but the gate is still safely far as I am slightly drunk.

This is p-p-private, I start to stutter.

I wonder what is he thinking now? I can bet his imagination is somewhere between an expensive escort girl and a spy (with escort girls specialisation). Then, with very blurred hints I tell him that I am a scientist who specialises in a very narrow part of children psychiatry. Seller of electric saws he would not have a slightest idea about psychiatry.

I thought that he would look disappointed as the escort girl is dead. However, the effect is contrary, he looks at me with his anarchist eyes and says – playfully – “ I see”.  I see.

I got it, he thinks that the psychiatrist is my “legend” .

Then he asks whether I would like to go to the dinner with him tonight. He is often in Barcelona and he knows the places. It is my only night out, tomorrow is already the interview, so I agree.

We go to some place in the old town, it is called “Sukur” and there a picture of a tiger in front of us.

He is playing the ally now, no word about the psychiatry, only careful, but conspiratory looks into my direction. And couple of “what such a beautiful lady is thinking/ smiling/ not answering about”.

Then after a bottle of wine he suddenly stretches his hand across the table and grabs mine. Simona, he says again, why such a beautiful woman is so silent.

Now the moment of truth. So I smile and say him that the dinner was lovely, but I unfortunately have an important client in one hour. Which is about midnight. With a wink that he understood what kind of client. (Russian spy? Lonely rich pervert?) I was afraid that it would be difficult to get rid of him as he is already fairly drunk and the danger boils adrenalin in me, but it is easier than I thought. There is, of course, a small risk that he could find out my real personality, but the risk is really small as none outside our corporation ever understood what we are doing.





We have a new office in Barcelona and Billy wants me to go there and interview the guy who is head of that office. (There are only two people – him and his assistant there.) It would be much cheaper to interview them on the phone and then send pictures per e-mail, but we have budget for business trips and if we don’t use it we will not get so much next year.

And who would object to go to Barcelona for free?


So the adventures start already in the plane. The guy who sits next to me is an old anarchist, now in the business suit and with a golden pen, but I see in his eyes desire to burn down the Pentagon. Clumsily he tries to “lose” his pen between our seats, that leads to exchange of the usual politeness when touching a stranger and there he is, already squeezing his business card into my hand. “Hans B.”  it says, he is selling either electric motors or sews, something with a long Shurchunburchun name, he speaks German and my German is good, but not perfect.

What is your name? Do you have a business card? He asks. I blush. This is part of the game. I have my business card, Billy had ordered it for me on my first day, but I don’t like to say my real name. Neither business. Airplane is a perfect place to become someone else. Not really, I say and blush again. My name is Simona. Now Hans B. will think that I do something mysterious and erotic. It is so as his eyes starts to sparkle and he orders us two gintonics.