Sasha and I go to Ziko’s, an old Serbian establishment off of Kantstrasse, just north of Stutti. Ziko’s used to be a popular meeting spot for the Yugo diaspora in the eighties. Back then there were Gypsy musicians and famous sports stars, in particular boxers. Today, the place makes most of its money through busloads …
A couple weeks ago, I introduced to you to the figure of Sasha, a kind of hero-in-his-own-mind small-time Balkan criminal. I mentioned I knew him through an Albanian tailor, named Bajram. There is little doubt in my mind that Bajram collaborated with Sasha on some of his deals, acting as a middleman for Sasha’s hot …
“You could write a book about my life,” said Sasha. “In fact, you could write several books. The things I have seen and done, you wouldn’t believe. The war. Bodyguard. Doorman. Knife fights. Gun fights. Prison. Casanova. Red Star Belgrade fan. Lone wolf. Patriot. That is who I am. I had the biggest balls in …
