Autor:    Enrique Arroyo Villegas

Papers of Mallorca - The gypsy bar

At first glance, it lacks interest, four tables and gypsies or fishermen. They are not gypsies with bears or goats, they do not play the accordion or the violin like the Chagall´s, they do not have large mustaches and the women do not tie their hair with colored scarves or fly with orange blossom bouquets.

But, yes, I like them because they disobey all the mayor´s orders, they smoke where they should not smoke, they take off their antivirus mask to chat, and they´re fat like they´re full of burgers, although without heavy gold chains or bad arts.

That is my favorite bar, near the majestic 17th century Lonja, in a square that was once a meeting point for merchants and money changers. Where one day Gunter Sachs´ russian wife bought basses to bring antiques from Paris; she, riding on a Rolls Royce from the 20s, drove around the square and left, but yes, she chose the color of the facade, purple and gold, which contrasted with the severity of the chipped facades.

In that place José María, the one who brought Jimmy Hendrix to Palma, set up the first hamburger restaurant joint with an American name, with the glamor of some waitresses, the famous twins, in skates and tennis clothes, morbidly sweet.

There, a cream cake was smashed on the head —as in Chaplin´s films— of the city´s fashionable painter, Mompó, out of spite and revenge of an offended lady; and the gypsy who came down the stairs decked out in black brushed off the splashes of cream with a white lace handkerchief without even looking at the payos; while Trino Trives snickered, because how could Lonesco´s friend not laugh at the singular vernissage show in Pelaires.

Well, yes, there in the last corner of Palma is the gypsy bar, the usual one, which ended up being bought by a Chinese.