Ordinary life, extraordinary people

If I had to describe someone who I admire, I would probably talk about Diego. Diego lives close to the train station of a grumpy southern town. He likes waking up early, combing his unkempt eyebrows and allowing his feet to gently guide him downstairs. He enters the nearest coffee shop daily, in this case, the bar of an infamous and probably illegal game room, most of the time empty, with the exception of himself. Diego doesn’t care. He opens the local newspaper and frowning, turns the pages from the last till the first, grumbling and laughing in an even range. Of course, the comic strip first, after that, soccer chronicles, obituary next, cultural issues, local disgraces and finally national politics, a field which everyone (for some reason that Diego can’t explain himself) assumes he understands in a very deep way.

Diego goes to the employment office next, stoically counts a line of 34 heads ahead of his own (an action very laudable, taking into account Diego’s everlasting restlessness) and wonders what the right size for a human head is and how some men keep so much hair attached to the frontal sides of theirs. He listens carefully to those other heads, well, more to the motley conversations that come out of them, and pulls out the imaginary pen that he always carries everywhere.

Paper stamped, time to take a break. Diego doesn’t like rushes. He feels the inner call to keep the good customs and traditions of his motherland, so he goes to a bar and asks for a glass of beer, while chatting with some other patrons about (no doubt) very serious and important matters. By the time he is on his way back home, those invisible quick notes are already starting to fall from the branch. Diego can walk fast when he wants, but he has forgotten to get his Ducados.

The Chinese store is the last stop on his morning journey, and almost a second home for Diego’s readers. He gets the cigarettes, a bag of unsalted nachos and three marshmallows. Everything is settled for him, his desk, his Lennon in the background and voilá, daily magic, the most hilarious and satirical lines in the kingdom coming out of my dear friend’s fingers. Diego, I really admire you.