Jokes on Shakira‘s band

We got golden tickets for the shakira concert in lisbon.

The whole trip was so special, it was Maui‘s birthday. Her first time on a plane. Her first oversea trip.

We went to the concert with the best mood anyone ever had. There weren‘t a lot of people in the golden circle, so we had a lot of space for ourselves. While waiting for Shakira to start, I saw a couple asking a guy if they could take a picture with him. I don‘t like to guess, so I went straight to this dude asking him if he is any kind of special.

„Excuse me, are you somebody important in lisbon?“

„Not exactly“

„So why would people want to take a picture with you?“

„I‘m playing in Shakira‘s band.“

„Okay, jokes ok you boy“

After promising me, that I will see for myself later on, he walked away and came back 20 minutes later with a sticker of Shakira‘s tour with the date on it. „Go to the left side of the stage after the concert, show this sticker and you can join us backstage.“ he said and left again.

I looked at Maui with a face saying „Can you believe this dude just gave us a random sticker trying to make me believe he is part of the crew?“ and Maui smiled at me with a face saying „O M G. Can you believe we are about to meet Shakira?“ – as if Shakira would have a coffee with us backstage, telling us about the struggles of being on the road.

After a little time and a lot of drinks, Shakira finally opened the show.

Fun fact: This dude was not IN the band, he was THE band. In one song he played the guitar, in another song the piano and in another one he did the rap-part.

Even tho we knew, Shakira won‘t be hanging out with us, we decided to use our backstage-ticket. The show ended and we went to the left side of the stage. Besides us there where two other normal-looking girls (like us) and two not-so-normal-looking girls (fake boobs, fake nails, fake lashes) waiting to get backstage. After a few minutes the dude opened the door, looked around and chose (obviously) the not-so-normal-looking girls and send the normal-looking-girls and us away.

Sadly we didn‘t get to have coffee with shakira but at least we got elected as 2 of 6 possible bitches for the night.

Why to plan more time at Schiphol Airport

My dutch friend told me to plan enough time at schiphol airport because it can get really busy there. I’m latin and latinos never plan enough time for anything. So we arrived at the airport, as usual, one hour before departure.

The night before my friend Maui (this name is inspired by “money heist”, because if the professor would have asked her, she definitely would have called herself “Maui”) bought some CBD in the store. As it’s legal in Amsterdam and in Vienna she didn’t really question to take it home.

Arrived at the security check Maui asked if it’s possible to keep the CBD in the backpack and the Baby Bond (a young not really knowing guy working there) left to ask his boss. ju

Already on our way to the airport I felt a little bit dizzy. Every moment at the security check, waiting for the Boss Bond, it got worse and worse and suddenly I started shaking.

After a while – the already closed our line to put all their attention on the girl with CBD and shaking friend – the Boss Bond came and he truly wasn’t amused. With the deep, informative voice he explained that there is a special law for airports and by entering the airport with CBD she is breaking international law.

At this point I was so dizzy I had to sit down right at the security check. Two women who were also working there came up to me immediately, brought me water, fed me candy and gave me a plastic bag to breath in. First question: “Does your current situation have anything to do with your friend’s CBD?” – to be clear, it really didn’t. I just had a circulatory collapse.

After talking Boss Bond out of calling the police and making her sign a letter of reprimand instead he called the healthcenter to send somebody to check if I’m able to take the flight. Btw at this moment our gate was already closed, 10 minutes left for take-off. Boss Bond informed the airline and asked them to wait for us.

They sent a really nice man from international airport security to sign the letter of reprimand with Maui. Maui was so stressed for being kept at the security check and dealing with my break down at the same time, she was about to cry and the nice man was trying so hard to calm her down.

2 minutes before take-off the medical assistant arrived and – of course – he asked me one question again and again.

“Does this breakdown has anything to do with your weekend in Amsterdam?” “No Sir, I promise, I swear, I’m good.” “Does it have anything to do with the CBD we found?” “No sir, I promise, I don’t do CBD” – I mean, let’s be honest, who ever broke down because of CBD? After convincing the doctor – at least he acted like convinced – and signing the letter of reprimand and promising to never ever bring anything to an airport again – we were allowed to leave. For me (I was still shaking) the asked for a wheel chair and they drove me running like we just stole a bunch of diamonds to our gate, directly into the airplane.

25 minutes AFTER take-off, we actually took off.


As we all don´t really know each other (yet – as I´m about to publish the stories I should actually be ashamed of), I felt like starting off with my family-backround-story: My last name is Montenegro but I´m not from Montenegro and neither does it belong to me.

Let`s start with my mom´s side:
My great-grandfather was a slowakian jew, my great-grandmother is a russian jew. That makes my grandmother a mishmash of slowakian-russian-jew. So she married an ecuadorian latino (catholic), what makes my mom half mishmash / half ecuadorian. After my grandmother divorced my ecuadorian grandfather, she got married to a man from iran (islamic), who is not my blood relative but got a big influence in my life since day one.

Well, my father is austrian with croatian roots – thats easy.

Two good thing about growing up in a mishmash-latin-balkan-mix-family:
– There are a lot of religions in my family, so we have a lot of parties but don´t believe in any.
– I don´t speak any language perfectly, but insults I know in 9.