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.