Jordi was a big Barça fan. There was nothing he loved more than pounding back a few Estrella Damms, smoking a pack or two of Marlboros and cagandose in some Madridistas. Nothing, except maybe picking up some fine ladies and bringing them back to his place to make sweet love.

On the night of the Barça-Madrid match, Jordi’s friend Xavi called him up. “Hey tío, the whole peña is going over to the bar to watch Barça whip the snot out of Madrid. See you there at 9?”

“Are you joking?” laughed Jordi. “I don’t go to bars anymore, ever since they outlawed smoking. I need tobacco to enjoy the camaraderie of a football match — or human relations in general.”

“But you can still drink a few beers …”

“Excuse me, I’m not only an alcoholic. Those bars are discriminating against my other addictions.”

“Then what will you do?”

“I’m staying at home to watch the game, so I can smoke all I want. And any time Barça scores a goal, I’ll write something on Facebook. Something with a lot of exclamation points.”

“Fine, but after the game we’re going to a nightclub to pick up some girls. I suppose we can count you in, you sweet-love-making animal.”

“Sorry, I won’t give another cent to a bar or nightclub until they stop infringing on my rights.”

“So you’re just going to sit at home alone and smoke?”

“Of course not,” scoffed Jordi. “I’m going to go through the friends of all my Facebook contacts and see if there are any fine ladies who want to chat. I’ll let them come to my place and make sweet love only if they agree that I can smoke.”

“Wow. You’ve given up all the things you value in life in exchange for cigarettes. I must say, that takes a lot of willpower. If all the other smokers in Spain are just like you, together you’ll bring the restaurant and nightlife industries to their knees.”

“Yes, if there’s one thing we smokers have, it’s willpower.”