I hope to never see myself in the situation of Pablo Iglesias the other day where Ana Rosa, when a child broncanized He asked how much money he has. As a good Spaniard, I not only have a very modest relationship with the money that makes me always ask at the end and very low how much they will pay me when they propose a job, as if charging something as dirty as going to the bathroom, but I keep a reflection of the years in which I did not have a hard one: when withdrawing money from the cashier, I always pulse not in the question of whether I want to know my balance. I pulse fast and annoying. How will I want to know such a thing, with the good day it does? I want to spend those bills with joy, not thinking that I waste my last euros.
Isabel Pantoja, who represented a summit of Spanishness in so many couplets and in many posadas of magazines, seems much more uninhibited in its relationship with money than the people I know (so that you can get an idea: once I happened to ask, as a child, how much my father charged, and they answered that I received, in pesetas, what did not matter to me). Your signing in Survivors it has been announced next to his possible salary: 80,000 eurazos a week, which, after taxes, will be left at 40,000. In an obscurantist country where nobody knows for sure if the companion who sits next to him in the office doing the same things charges the same as he does, the money of some celebrities is aired as a prestigious flag.
Broncano knew that he was hitting the waterline of a taboo when he began to pester his interviewees with the question of how much money they have, that only those who have so much do not know how to respond, as Piqué. Iglesias, who looks more like me in matters of financial modesty (and is, therefore, more Spanish than Isabel Pantoja), invited the child to look for the answer on the Internet. I would have preferred to have told him himself: to know what weird things happen to the child on the Internet.