Sir:
Peak season arrived to Ibiza Island, famous
to be the place where money can get you whatever you wish. And with it, all the
tourists who thought nothing changed here, and everything is still about parties,
beaches and bitches. And we gave them a big surprise.
At the ‘Sea Beach Club’ a highly overpriced bar
at the shore which can be only reached by boat, big parties with Arabian
sheiks, top models, soccer stars and big business men happen along the summer
season all the time. But this time is going to be different. The party is going
to be enjoyed by the ones who used to be at the bottom: the service workers,
the no ones, us, the space monkeys.
First, let me tell you about the attendants
of the day of the ultimate suffocation. Among others I will tell you about
Abdullah, who last year bought a 3000 bucks champagne bottle, shook it, and
poured all the content over the beautiful dancer of the bar, just for fun. I
will tell you about Leo Renaldo, a soccer star considered a kind of human god
by a lot of people who still think they are their fucking khakis. He used to
get high on cocaine and alcohol, and have fun dropping bills to the floor so he
could laugh at the humiliated waiter who got to his knees for those useless
papers. Humiliating the staff used to be his favorite hobby. Then Doris Hilton,
international top model who used to throw the glasses against the waiter if she
considered that her gin tonic had too much gin, or not enough lemon. They are a
kind of money built gods who are worshiped by many people, whose icons are not
in churches, but on television, which is more popular and convincing nowadays.
Those three are just a small example of the kind of arrogance and disrespect
shown by the customers of the ‘Sea Beach Club’, and the staff used to accept
for money. All those three individuals, among others, showed up the day of the ultimate
suffocation.
All the staff one day agreed to don’t work
once the bar was opened. The arrogant rich clients were shocked to see that
there was only one thing on the menu: Rize or die. When Abdullah asked for his
champagne bottle, the dancer who was humiliated herself brought it, shook it
and shot all the expensive liquid over the sheik. The soccer star started to
cry when no one accepted to serve him, tried offering big tips, but his money
was not valuable for us anymore. The scared top model, Doris, ran in to the
boat and tried bribing the captain of the boat to bring her out of the island,
but the captain showed his hand, and there was a lips shaped burn signal there.
He was one of us, the Singing Birds Of The Ultimate Suffocation. At this point,
and for first time in their lives, the gods fell to the ground, then they
realized that they are nothing more than us but with money. So now we don’t
want their money, we are over them, and the fallen gods asked us what we want
to let them go out, what if isn’t money? Money, money money. Everything is
about money for them, so boring. Then I said:
-
We
want a fight
-
A
fight? – Asked Leo Renaldo incredulous
-
Yes,
a fight – I confirmed
-
So,
if we win, you will allow us to go away, won’t you?
-
Win?
Is not about winning or losing, that doesn’t matter, in a fight we all win, and
the rules are the following. The first rule of fight club is…
And you all
know how it continues. The fights were awesome, intense. The ungodded TV gods
and the waiters fighting each other, showing that we are all the same, that we
all bleed. Sometimes we won, sometimes we lose, but it didn’t matter. At the
end of the day we let them leave, and they were gone with the feeling that they
are no more than anybody else. May any of them join the project mayhem? Only
time will say.
