I have a very friendly postman in Barcelona (actually I should say “I had a very friendly postman” since I have recently moved away from the city). Anyway, for 4 years, he delivered bills, bank statements, junk mail and every now and again, a letter or two. Although we were never on first-name terms, our meetings in the corridor were always very cordial.

One day I saw my friendly postman in the street. He was walking away from my front door and I asked him:

“¿Has podido entrar?” (”Did you manage to get in?”)

[Cultural note: In order to get through front doors and have access to buzones (see below), postmen in Barcelona are completely dependent on intercoms and people being at home at delivery time.]

He told me that someone had let him in and so I asked him:

“¿Algo para mi?” (”Anything for me?)

This was intended as a piece of small talk but my postman wanted to give me an answer. He had to think about it for a moment. He looked down at the ground and scratched his forehead. I was just about to tell him that it wasn’t important when he looked up and said:

“¿Coca?” (Cocaine?)

I assumed that I had misheard him but he repeated:

“¿Coca?“

I laughed and passed this off as a joke. Then I left him and went back to my flat. Of course, I checked my buzón to see if it contained any drugs but it didn’t. So I had to conclude that my postman was letting me know that he would be able to supply me with cocaine in case I ever found myself in need. What other possible explanation could there be? Obviously, the ball was in my court as he never mentioned his offer to me again.

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Well all right then, I’ll tell you what the other possible explanation was:

It came a couple of weeks later in the form of a letter which was dropped into my buzón which reminded me that my flat’s previous occupant was called Señor Coca.

I am tempted to say that this was clearly a case of mistaken identity. But the conspiracy theorist in me continues to believe that the whole thing is a cover up: In an attempt to create new business for his cocaine sideline, my shrewd postman is strategically planting these bogus “Señor Coca” letters into people buzones all over the city.

I sometimes wonder how many other individuals across Barcelona live under the false belief that their flats were previously occupied by someone under the name of Coca. And I wonder how many times my postman has fallen back on this ‘innocent misunderstanding’ whenever his blatant attempts to sell drugs have not gone according to plan. Ingenious!