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Has anyone ever asked you to do the truly impossible? If so did you laugh, or get angry, or walk away, or stick around and give them a thick ear for their shameless impertinence? These day in Kythnos I am asked the impossible about once a month and always by the Kythnos Albanians. They are young single men who are depressed by the lack of opportunities here, or rather by the badly paid piece work, which is normally labouring or construction or gardening.
Sometimes they do occasional work for the supermarkets, and instead of being paid in cash are paid in kind, an undignified and dispiriting neo-Victorian option if ever there was. That said, the worst entrepreneurs round here will do the same thing with other Greeks, if they get the chance, and it is after all so touching to know that they are truly impartial cosmopolitan swindlers, rather than the lamentably narrow and unsophisticated chauvinist variety. The young Shiptar males know I am English, and therefore automatically assume I have access to the ears of the great and the good, back home in the currently freezing UK.
The young men imagine I can get them a nice job in London, a spacious city centre flat, a couple of busty and riotous girlfriends who have strictly kaleidoscopic and all postures sex on the brain and nothing else, a BMW containing a cocktail bar, and possibly a six berth caravan to tour the Cotswolds with the same sex crazed London gals. They worm out of me that I have friends in London, and even lived there a mere 41 years ago they being on average aged 28 and think I can get on the blower to whichever one geezer, probably called Eric or Doug, and living in a modest Portakabin in Brixton, is sitting there dying to give penniless Albanians the royal life of Riley at the drop of a hat.
There is in addition a rich Shiptar here called Papi who has made a packet via construction, who surveying me from a distance and seeing I just fuck about all day with a laptop in the Glaros, battering away at God knows what…concludes I must have a massive private income, because no one gets money for battering away at anything in the Glaros, not even their best mate who has tried to cheat them at tavli, and stands to be eviscerated if they do not change their disgraceful malaka ways.
