jueves, 19 de abril de 2012


I will never forget my first day in L.A. After an endless flight during which I could (and did) taste all the wines available in the menu, write a couple of letters, read a whole book and even sleep for a while, I landed at L.A.X. absolutely exhausted. That was my first flight alone and that is why I was suffering a strange feeling of fear, which became bigger when a customs officer, asked me for my passport and then if there was any chorizo in my suitcase.
-Although I am Spanish, you can be sure there is nothing edible in my case. In fact, I hate chorizo, I firmly answered.
The man looked at me and as he could not find any dubious gesture in my face, just gave me my passport back and let me go.
My friend Jimmy was waiting for me at the meeting point to pick me up in his old Cadillac Seville. It took us no longer than fifty minutes to get to his tiny apartment by Redondo Beach. He helped me to unpack and took a parcel his mother had given to me the night before, opened it and showed me… a nice piece of chorizo hidden among the clothes.