Cold War

Plaça Sa Llotja

On the slightly delightful tune of Janelle Monáe’s “Cold War”, Begonia Séu strutted over the squares that populated the city Palma de Mallorca. She remembered that she had to meet Antonio, a merchant that lived in an alley near Plaça Sa Llotja. While she knew she had to hurry, her stomach was upset and she yearned for some bread to quiet down her indigestions. There must be a bakery somewhere, she thought. All she could she was dilapidated stores that must be fronts of some heinous chemical organization, or was she thinking too much in those series she had watched lately? Those thrillers that always featured homicide, drugs and tragic love affairs? Please, focus, now, Begonia, she urged herself.

Her phone was ringing inside her jacket. She always fumbled vehemently in her clothes to reach it and this time was no different. Just before the other person hang up, she swiped on it to accept the call. ‘Yes, Begonia speaking. What is the matter?’

‘The matter?’ Patricia yelled at the other end, seemingly busy with worldly matters, Begonia could discern.

‘Please, calm down, I am going to meet Antonio. You would like for me to meet him, right. Just to assess him.’

‘Wait,’ interjected Patricia. ‘I am not sure if I like this idea. You may have heard that he is easily infatuated.’

‘Oh, please, I have never had any kind of relationship and I am not going to date with one of your men. Sisters before misters, remember?’

Begonia did not know if Patricia bought into this, but she heard her say: ‘All right, I am relieved. But what do you think about Antonio?’

‘Come on, I haven’t even met him. Give this girl a break.’

Passeig del Born

Patricia yelled a few more times and made some motivating remarks, but it was not enough for Begonia to change her plans. She had to see Antonio, even if he had a daft job as a merchant. Merchant of what, exactly? Did he sell illegal items?

As Begonia turned into a dark alley, she saw quite a handsome man. She knew from magazines that quite handsome means ugly, but this time she really meant it. He was handsome, but not like freakishly handsome. He was all right.

‘Are you Patricia?’ Antonio asked in a very sweet voice. He looked like he could date a princess, had black hair, dark eyes and sported nice clothes.

Begonia decided to lie and confirm her identity as Patricia. It was her way of saying thank you to her friend. How could Patricia be so stupid? Did she ever meet with Antonio before or was it an Internet date? If Begonia could pass for Patricia, who clearly had a different complexion, this guy was either very thick or needed glasses, urgently.

Antonio was very becoming and said all those endearments which Begonia knew from past experiences. Wait, which past experiences did she envision, exactly? Was that the one time when she was in breathing distance with a man? Was that it? No, don’t belittle yourself, she thought.

‘Are you having a good time?’ Antonio asked.

This was not a tactful question, because it implied that Begonia did not have a good time, or that he did not have a good time. Either way, it was a sign that something was amiss. Perhaps she should come clean about her identity and reveal that she was a friend of Patricia’s? But she rather liked it that a man cared for her and went the extra mile. So she stayed quiet and told Patricia afterwards that the date was splendid.

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