Prologue: time and place
London, long time ago.
How can you not fall in love with a city so when you do not have big problems, you do not have constraints and you turn a little money in your pocket?
In that period of my life I was in this idyllic condition; but not too young, no particular constraint, discrete financial availability due to a good job and no mortgage to pay. In this condition I find myself living in London for about a month. They call them "internships" in reality for me is a vacation full time.
I take home in a central area. The first attempt was a disaster hallucinating, contact an agency that finds me a "kind location" ... near Kings Cross Railroad Station. Translated into practice, I find a toilet room in a kind of hostel near the station of Kings Cross, the one where I burned a ton of people during a fire.
Apart from the process in common with a group of strangers who have to guess many years younger than me but many more problems than me to make ends meet and maybe even a few problems with the correct use of substances derived from opium, the rest of the room is simply a copy of the process above. The "location" is set in a magnificent corner with a view to "pizza hut" and consequent usufruct free of fragrances and aromas coming from the same. When you consider that white is a color not very frequent among those who frequent nightclubs surrounding sidewalks, here is the picture of a perfect place where you can shoot yourself in peace and have all the mitigating of the case.
Step two nights in my great room, sleeping little but clutching a healthy and sincere friendship with a family of cockroaches living there for three generations. By day I spend time looking for an accommodation where to relocate even though I know that doing so will break your heart to my room neighbor, a young Spanish arrived two days before me that on my arrival hugged me like I was a brother. I was the first "normal" person he met for three days.
Finally on the third day I find accommodation within the reach of my finances. Incidentally, I would be willing to steal the crown jewels just to leave. The new "location" decidedly more welcoming. I found another room in Knightsbridge. How to say from rags to riches. For those not practical, it is (..era..forse still is ..) a very pretty, very close to Hyde Park, close to Harrod's, near the legendary King's Road (the road famous for fashion). short I like it says "I turned."
The rent also has turned and a lot but you only live once and then ..
On the fourth day, I wake up, I open the window and I see in the distance a piece of the park and then it says that happiness is hard to get!
For three or four days fooling around in the streets like a moron, you know movies like "An American in Paris" or something? My internship has not started yet so I can try to enjoy the city and figure out how to move.
I discover the London squares and streets strangest and then step to the London tourist with all stops classic that is useless to list. Remarkable thing, a little bar with authentic Italian coffee in the heart of Soho.
Soho is rather a disappointment crazy, neighborhood life of vice London is a sadness. Much better move along "the thames". Then there are an infinite number of rooms of the convent garden and the theater district. Some discos everywhere and I find the Camden area. In short, the first week I like to fuck right and left as few.
I start the internship, minimum commitment and frequency only in the morning, in practice it's a godsend. Among other things it is not even very far, paddington area. I shall digress. Paddington is an area, in my opinion, very nice with a whole series of old style houses with white colonnades that is contaminated by a strong presence of Indians. I do not know if this has affected but the area is also teeming with ads for dating a fee.
Actually, this is one of the things I've seen immediately. The first time I telfonato from a booth, I was astonished; throughout the cabin was covered andesivi and business cards escort, escorts, bdsm, ethnic, call girls, call-boys ... ect ect. in short, the entire sample was at hand. The feeling was that of a child left alone in pastry.
And here begins the story.
Part One: the pastry or easy sex
What does a child left alone in a bakery? Obvious ... taste the pastries.
And then one day I find myself at the regent's park sitting on a bench with a business card in hand. Black with a gold ticket written in italics great "Mercedes" and below "the dreams become truth" and behind only "call at xxxxxxxxxxxxx).
You only live once ... ..ricordate?
"Hello, mercedes speaking, may I help you?" Sure you can help me ... and so between a joke and a bit of embarrassment fixed the meeting. It is not really cheap, I would say pricey but that's okay. I will not tell how it went, and it went very well.
And so it all begins. If it had gone wrong I would not be here to tell and write.
After Mercedes try some other girl. Can anyone say "excuse but why do not you look for one without paying? a normal girl like all ". Well, in fact I also found a couple of girls "normal" but normality is a very relative concept in England and in London means specially. One evening I spend the evening in a pub drinking beer and playing dards and lose without restraint, however, I refer with snooker. Between dard, a beer and a game of snooker, I make friends with abitueè the pub. It 'something difficult and rare. di solito il gruppo dei frequentatori abituali non caga mai i nuovo e men che meno i turisti ma forse perchè perdo molto a freccette divento simpatico.
Al momento della chiusura mi ritrovo con due ragazze del gruppo, nulla di speciale, carine ma nella media. “Italians do it better” e cazzate simili ed alla fine mi trov a dormire da loro. Dormire..eufemismo per dire che mi trovo a passare la notte con loro. Non sono mai stato un amante dell'orgia, dell'ammucchiata; non mi piace il traffico “on the bed” però sarà stato l'alcool o altro alla fine è andata a finire così con due ragazze “normali”.
Frequento anche una ragazza dle mio stage, frequento nel senso che talvolta si esce a mangiare e finito lì. E' una ragazza ungherese che dice di essere imparentata con non so chi di importante del suo paese. Molto carina ed anche un pò strana. sarà anche imparentata con una persona importante ma un giorno mentre mangiamo seduti su una panchina di un parchetto mi chiede se posso farel un favore. “Ma certo” risponde il tacchino italiano doc (Di Origine Cazzuta). “Mi puoi prestare 50 pounds?” è l'angelica richiesta. Ora, la ragazza ha circa ventidue anni, bionda, un bel fisico, due occhioni blu che ora sono modello cucciolo di cooker e mi fissa speranzosa. Che pensate abbia risposto un autentico gentleman italiano d.oc.? Esatto, proprio quello. Per inciso non ho secondi fini ma resto un pò sorpreso dalla richiesta e comunque anticipo che il suddetto prestito è ancora da essere saldato a distanza di anni. Diciamo che ho finanziato lo sviluppo di un paese emergente dell'est europa.
Ecco spiegato il perchè del ricorso ai biglietti ed agli annunci. Molto più rilassante e meno complicazioni e fraintendimenti. Se esco con una call- girls e questa mi chiede dei soldi non resto sorpreso, è normale. se esco con due e ci finisco a letto, non sono sorpreso, è normale. Si vive una volta sola e che cazzo..almeno in maniera tranquilla.
La scelta è vasta ed articolata, è un supermarket aperto 24 su 24. Ci sono agenzie settoriali ed etniche per gli amanti del genere. Io non ho gusti particolari e quindi vado su cose classiche. Una sera chiamo un'agenzia e mi risponde un tizio abbastanza gentile, fisso l'incontro e mi manda a casa la ragazza:Christine.
E qui comincia un'altra storia.
Parte seconda: Lei
Christine arriva puntuale come un orologio svizzero. Apro la porta e lo spazio è occupato da una massa di capelli biondi ricci, mossi…e da un sorriso favoloso. Occhi verdi con riflessi dorati sorridenti e splendenti di luce propria. “Hi, i'm Christine” ha una voce bellissima, cordiale e gentile, allegra. Definizione del momento: una ragazza solare.
Per prima cosa regolo le questioni finanziare con la solita busta e poi cominciamo a parlare un pò. Beh..non parliamo per molto a dire il vero perchè onestamente non resisto molto a guardala solamente. Che dire di quello che è successo? Posso dire che è stata un'esperienza notevole, lei sorride, ride e poi sorride ancora. Io spesso sparo cazzate in inglese e le parlo di tutto e di più. Alla fine ci troviamo a parlare e molto di cose nostre tra un drink, una risata ed un bacio. Alla fine della serata ci salutiamo e mi dice “You are very funny, thanks”.
Alla mattina non vado allo stage, vado al parco, non ad Hyde Park, prefersico l'altro quello vicino. Resto lì per un pò a guardare in giro poi vado in metrò sino a Convent Garden e resto lì a guardare chi ha la testa più grossa. Ho la testa ovattata, mi sembra di camminare 30 centimetri da terra o vicino al cielo a seconda dei punti di vista. Ho una sensazione spazio/tempo decisamente falsata. Nel tardo pomeriggio rientro nella mia cameretta e chiamo Christine.
Mi ha lasciato il numero di casa sua. La sera prima mi ha raccontato che vive con la sorella che ora è via. hanno registrato una canzoncina come segreteria telefonica che dice sia uno spasso. Faccio il numero.
“hello…….” e comincia una canzone a due voci che è un disastro ma decisamente divertente perchè si sente che registrata in un momento in cui il tasso alcolico è andato a farsi un giro al di fuori del fegato ed ha passato la serata con il duodeno.
Alla fine della segreteria lascio un messaggio con il mio numero di telefono. Frasi che non vogliono dire nulla ma che al momento mi sembrano intelligenti e belle. Dopo circa una mezz'ora squilla il telefono. E' lei.
“hello funny italian! How are you?” Comincia così ed è già finita o forse è iniziata..non so cosa, ma so che in quel preciso momento “qualcosa” è successo. Ridendo e scherzando organizziamo di incontrarci per la serata. A pagamento sia chiaro.
While we're on time, we decide to go eat something together. Idiota..non even know where to take! I know of nothing more than the places I eat sandwiches or other crap in some pubs and I invited her out to eat! Christine arrives on time as always, a little in advance, and if yesterday had seemed nice, now I'm sure is beautiful. I do not know yet where to go and she must have realized that they are a little messed up. Offers her a place close. Ok, gone. It 'a place very similar to where I go, sandwiches, some crap and nothing more. A beer and some crap that I honestly do not know what it is but I do not care. She is in front of me and that's enough and advances. He tells me he wants to get the breast again would increase it. It seems to me that is fine as it is. "Noooooooo .. i want to Became a third page girl!". For those not practical, the girl of the third page is reported to the newspaper "The Sun" in the third page that has a habit of inserting the topless pictures of various starlets and is the most read page of the newspaper that for the rest does seem "Corriere dei Piccoli" an authoritative magazine. We continue to discuss the size of her tits and in general the perfect size boobs. All this with a normal tone of voice and the thing I see that it's interesting that the other customers with looks more or less competent throw an eye on tits Christine.
We go out and we are naturally embraced. Let's go back to my "home, sweet home."
And here begins another story.
Epilogue: ... ..and so be it
I open the door of my room and enters the light that is Christine. This time does not rule the question finanziara or rather do not have time because I sling a meter of language and explores my tonsils. Given the temperature we move in a more consistent and start ...... "Wait a moment ..." he says and looks for something in her purse; something is a different way of saying "condom". It usually does not take long, but this time the search is longer than necessary. "Damned .." I understand that something is wrong or rather that the "something" is not found. In practice we do not have condoms and it is not pleasant view of the situation of Big Ben which is located in my part of the groin. There guardiamo..risata embarrassing and then the decision: get changed and go to look for the condom. Beh..situazione a little strange but ultimately fun. We go out laughing and she teases me wondering why I have a banana in my pants pocket ... "are you hungry?" So that that, in this situation is something chock full of double meanings.
The first place to look for tells us bad, no condom. Let's try a self open but even here there are. But they decided to fuck all tonight? The research leads us to another place but it's late and it is also well closed. Let's go back, it seems impossible but I have not found a condom. I'm quite resigned and even Big Ben marks six thirty in peace. Christine looks at me and tells me that sorry, that tomorrow if we want vederci..non figured no problem. A kiss and then another. He looks at me and then starts over, and we find ourselves on the bed and the Big Ben is back at midnight. I try to tell her that it is not ... I closed my lips with a finger and tells me that he trusts. At the moment I do not understand but it is only a matter of a moment. The rest of notte..beh not take a genius to figure out how it went.
E 'remained with me all night. We have not talked about financial issues. I took her home. A nice apartment, cute, messy to capacity as only can be the apartment of two girls who do not want to fix the house. I stop for a cup of tea and then you are already there we go eat something. And 'Thursday, Sunday I flew to Italy. I greet you with the promise that in a few hours I would be with her. And so it was.
Basically I move from her, missing three days at my plane and you only live once ... ..
You know those weird movies with him and she who go around smiling faces with the idiots with the jingle cheerful .. capelli..ecco sun and wind in the next three days were so. I spent three days in another dimension. Sex? And so much more, but not only. The most beautiful things and the best memories are others. For example, when in the kitchen while we ate a piece of pizza (pizza hut ...), she insisted to teach his little song of the secretariat. What's so funny? Try singing in the mouth with a piece of pizza (pizza hut..intendo) with a naked girl sitting on your legs and then tell me ....
Then came Sunday. "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" is a song by U2 and is anything but that Sunday was truly cursed. But it was not as sad as you may think. The morning found us awake, we spent the night talking and just talking. He accompanied me to the airport, I saw her for the last time through a glass and it seemed more beautiful than the first day. A greeting, a smile and go, you only live once ...
I never see again Christine, I was in London before but never have I found the courage to try to call her, to find her. I did it one night a few years ago. A special evening where the head goes its own way and you draw imaginary lines of the financial statements of life and you count the good things and the bad things that one did. The number is always there, I even now after many years and so that night I called. I was lucky, she was not but there was a little song.
... .you Live once ... but inside you die many times.