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Finally got a full night’s sleep in my own bed. That was good for a change. Just as I was finally getting unpacked and distributing presents to my girl, the phone rang.
“Hey, bartalo, Cigano! Mixto!” The familiar voice croaked.
“Sar san, prala!” I said to Eugene the Gypsy in my own broken Romani.
“Back in Rio, brother. Chillin’ at the beach in Ipenema with my band today. You coming down?”
“See ya in twenty minutes, bro!”
“Party!” Eugene said. Then; “Hey, man. Call Mio too!”
I hung up and dialed the familiar number. Mio, the respected Gypsy leader of Brazilian Roma answered on the third ring. I told him Eugene was in town and we made plans to all meet up at his place later that night for one of our wild all night Gypsy jam-sessions in his kitchen. Yeh, it was all starting up again. Gogol Bordello style. Party!
Parteeey!