Sunday at the Movies

sunday morning jose came to the game. 

he says i have fundamentals, he says anyone can tell that. 

-nice, man!

-really.

we later had lunch at McDonald's by the sea. 

i was watching the palm-trees thinking of you. 

vanessa is elbowing herself a position in makeup pro world 

she was working today in a short-film production, at the nice school up where marina hits diagonal. 

the second we get there a guy comes up and he offers us to be extras. 

-ok, what do we have to do?

-just stand in line and cheer up or insult the people in the car that will drive by. 

-alright. 

we sign rights, some waiting around, the light extending weirdly in the sky. it all gets pretty surreal, there're guys dressed as secret agents with big guns, and a ninja, and terrorists in a car with automatic guns, and provocatively dressed women and also politician-looking ones. and a red convertable. then the extras, gays, fat women, a mother and her teenage daughter, a full pakistani family, a young latino comes around to use the basketball court and he's enrolled as extra too. 

a romanian tramp that was pushing his carrito full of dumpster stuff shows up and starts yelling at the white morocco producer that was holding the megaphone: ¡calla la boca! ¡microfono! 

of course, the romanian is immediately enrolled in the production, his duty: to prevent people from walking by 

or through the sidewalk while we shoot. 

he performs his task outstandingly. 

rap music coming out the speakers, an incredibly nice photographer-man takes photos of us holding papers with a number, i was number 61. 

the plot is freaky: 

it's 2036 and Cataluña is an independent country. 

A cuban president is running for election and on his program 

re-union with Spain is his number one policy.  

we pick Spain Pro-president line to cheer him up. but then the actor in person, also director, this big cuban marcelus-wallace-looking black guy comes out the building before shooting and starts yelling: 

-i need someone who looks malefic!

i knew he was gonna pick us right at the second. 

he comes to us. he hands us out a bunch of bananas. 

-i want you to yell at me, racistly, "monkey man, negro de mierda, bunga-bunga!", ok? and toss these bananas at me, ok?

-well, humm, we were going to cheer, i mean we aint racists, you -- alright. we're doing it. 

we shoot three times, third one goes. we lose all bananas of course. the president eats one each time. 

and that has been our big entrance to movie world! as racist catalan independentistas! awesome :)  

the romanian starts kicking a soccer ball to the road, light sunday traffic, it's all very weird. 

jose really wants to go. im more adrift at this point. 

we wait for vanessa to finish her work, it all finishes with a dancing parade, president, that's been shot dead, ahead. 

around 5:30pm we drive back, i like the relationship they have. they drop me home. 

vanessa and i take a selfie of ourselves by the car to post in social networks with the purpose of cross-marketing,

me to her audience, she to mine. 

they leave, i come up home.