Emigraine - Chapter Five
Words and Photography by Michele Maria Serrapica
THE CHICKEN, THE EGG OR KFC BUREAUCRATIC DILEMMA
Phonzo has never been a good planner.
Even if he tries. A lot. In his mind.
He spent most of the 24 hours composing a day lost in his thoughts. And, by thoughts, we mainly mean projects, dialogues and monologues, often intertwined and connected since he literally animates and lives whatever he attempts to schedule to do in his life. Problem is, he spends so much time alone inside his head reliving those soon-to-happen moments that, by the time they come, they're gone without him noticing and concretely living them.
On this wise, Phonzo was once more lucky because he had the superficial and materialist Luchino next to him while moving the first steps into Londinium. Luchino introduced him to the Ouroboros Paradox also known as the Who Came First? The chicken, the egg or KFC? dilemma.
“Well, in order to work in the Bigdom you need this… a number, which is a sort of virtual barcode the authority assigns you to track and tax your own persona. But, in order to gain the barcode, you need a home address, that is a bed and a roof in which finding shelter overnight (or overday, up to you). Funny thing is nobody will ever rent you a room unless you got a job, which you can't get without the barcode. Got it?”. Phonzo found Luchino's explanation quite funny even though he was sure he wasn't joking at all.
“So, technically, you should jump on the next plane and flight back home. You won't of course because to fuck them up it's very easy”.
First, he had to call for the barcode giving Luchino's address as his, they didn't and couldn't check anyway. He missed the first appointment because, as every newcomer, he didn't get a word of what the dude told him over the phone. The second time he got luckier, the lass was nicer and with a clearer accent.
After that, Luchino told him about a free bed in the double bedroom next to the kitchen. What he had to do was just going to the slimy salesman in charge of the tenancy, tell them about the free accommodation (of which they probably didn't even know being that a very low-class firm) and reclaim it as its own. They made him a contract so fake the cheapest library in the neighbourhood didn't hold it valid for a membership. The rent was cheap though, even if it wasn't worth the company of his lame and depressed roommate.
The next step was the bank account. Luchino told him about a specific branch of a specific bank located in the middle of La Ciudad in which they don't ask much. Apparently, they're happy enough to open new accounts to whoever is willing to ask for one. And Phonzo asked. And he got a bank account too.
What originally seemed to be an intricate plan to avoid barbarian invasions, ended up being a trivial willpower trial. The not-too-young emigrant dreamer had won the bureaucracy in no time.
The only step left was the job. Although, Phonzo was worried by the recent excess of luck. There was the risk he might have been able to find the coolest job ever in a couple of days.
Luckily, things stopped being nice and easy pretty much soon. Life was back to the usual shit.