Prologue: time and place
London, long time ago.
How can you not fall in love with a city so when you have bigger 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, discreet availability of funds 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 Station Railroad. 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 at a guess have 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 inserted in the corner with magnificent views of "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 extenuating circumstances 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 accommodation where to relocate even though I know that doing so will break the heart of my room neighbor, a young Spanish arrived two days before me that when I arrived he hugged me like I was a brother. I was the first "normal" that 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 area, within walking distance of Hyde Park, close to Harrod's, next to the legendary King's Road (the road famous for fashion). .insomma as they say "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 messing around in the streets like a moron, you know movies like "An American in Paris" or something? My internship has not yet begun, and so I try to enjoy the city and figure out how to move.
I discover the London squares and streets strangest and then step at a London tourist with all the stops classic that is useless to list. Remarkable thing, a little bar with authentic Italian coffee in the heart of Soho.
Soho is rather disappointing crazy, the life of the district 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. Clubs a little bit everywhere and discover the area of Camden. In short, the first week I like to fuck right and left as few.
I start the stage, low effort 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 variety of old-style houses with white colonnades that is contaminated by a strong presence of Indians. I do not know if this has an impact but the area is also teeming with ads for dating a fee.
Actually, this is one of the things that I saw immediately. The first time I telfonato from a booth, I was surprised; the cabin was covered with andesivi and business cards to escort, escort, sadomasochism, ethnic, call-girls, call-boys ect ... ect. in short, all the samples was at hand. The feeling was that of a child left alone in pastry.
And here it 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 am 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?" Of course you can help me ... and so between a joke and a bit of embarrassment fixed the meeting. It's 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 try 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 specialemente. One night I spend the evening in a pub drinking beer and playing dards and lose without restraint but I refer with snooker. Between dard, a beer and a game of snooker, I make friends with abitueè the pub. And 'a rare and difficult thing. usually the group of regulars not shit ever again, let alone tourists, but maybe because I lose a lot of darts became sympathetic.
At closing time, I find myself with two girls in the group, nothing special, but pretty average. "Italians do it better" and crap like this and I finally found himself to sleep by them. Dormire..eufemismo to say that I am to spend the night with them. I've never been a lover of the orgy, dell'ammucchiata; I do not like the traffic "on the bed" but will have been alcohol or other at the end it turned out well with two girls "normal".
I attend a girl dle my internship, I attend in the sense that sometimes you go out to eat and ended up there. It 'a Hungarian girl who claims to be related to not know who's important in his country. Very nice and also a little strange. will also be related to an important person but one day while we eat sitting on a bench in a small park I ask me if I can Farel a favor. "Of course," says the turkey Italian Doc (of Origin crap). "Can I borrow 50 pounds?" Is the angelic request. Now, she has about twenty-two, blonde, a beautiful body, two blue eyes that are now model puppy cooker and stares at me hopefully. What do you think has answered an authentic Italian gentleman d.oc.? That's right, just that. Incidentally I have no ulterior motive but rest a little surprised by the request and still advance that this loan is to be paid even after several years. Let's say I have funded the development of an emerging country of Eastern Europe.
This explains why the use of tickets and announcements. Much more relaxing and less complications and misunderstandings. If I go out with a call-girls and asks me this money not surprised rest, it is normal. if I go out with two and we end up in bed, I'm not surprised, it's normal. You only live once and that cazzo..almeno him quietly.
The choice is vast and diverse, is a supermarket open 24 of 24. There are sectoral agencies and ethnic for fans of the genre. I do not have particular tastes and so I go about things classic. One evening I call an agency and I answered a nice enough guy, fixed the meeting and sent me home the girl Christine.
And here it begins another story.
Part Two: She
Christine arrives on time like a Swiss watch. I open the door and the space is occupied by a mass of curly blond hair, wavy ... and a fabulous smile. Green eyes with golden reflections smiling and shining with its own light. "Hi, i'm Christine" I have a beautiful voice, friendly and kind, cheerful. Defining moment: a girl solar.
First rule issues financed by the usual envelope and then begin to talk a bit. We beh..non talk to much to be honest because I honestly can not resist much to watch it only. What about what happened? I can say it was a remarkable experience, she smiles, laughs and then smiles again. I often shoot crap in English and I talk about everything and more. In the end we are talking about a lot of things and in our drink, a laugh and a kiss. At the end of the evening we salute and says "You are very funny, thanks."
In the morning I do not go to the stage, I go to the park, not to Hyde Park, prefersico another one next. Rest there for a while to look around then I go on the underground up to Convent Garden and stand there and look at who has the bigger head. My head is muffled, it seems to me to walk 30 cm from the ground or close to the sky depending on your point of view. I have a feeling space / time very distorted. In the late afternoon back in my room and I call Christine.
He left the number of his house. The night before he told me that he lives with his sister, who is now on. They recorded a song as an answering machine that says it is a hoot. I dial the number.
"Hello ......." And begins a song for two voices that is a disaster but definitely fun because you feel that recorded in a time when the alcohol is going to take a trip outside of the liver and spent the evening with the duodenum.
At the end of the Secretariat I leave a message with my phone number. Sentences that do not want to say anything but when I look smart and beautiful. After about half an hour the phone rings. And 'her.
"Hello funny italian! How are you? "Thus you begin and is already over or maybe it iniziata..non know what, but I know that at that very moment" something "happened. Laughing and joking we arrange to meet us for the evening. A payment is clear.
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 pub and I invited her out to eat! Christine arrives on time as always, a little early, and if yesterday had seemed nice, now I am sure it is beautiful. I do not know yet where to go and she must have realized that I'm a little messed up. It offers her a place near. Ok, go. 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 take 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 told 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 head. Continuiamo a discutere della dimensione delle sue tette ed in generale della dimensione perfetta delle tette. Tutto questo con un tono di voce normale e la cosa vedo che interessa anche gli altri avventori che con sguardi più o meno competenti buttano un occhio sulle tette di Christine.
Usciamo e siamo naturalmente abbracciati. Andiamo verso la mia “home, sweet home”.
E qui comincia un'altra storia.
Epilogo: …..e così sia
Apro la porta della mia cameretta ed entra la luce cioè Christine. Questa volta non regolo la questione finanziara o meglio non ho tempo perchè mi fionda un metro di lingua ed esplora le mie tonsille. Vista la temperatura ambiente ci spostiamo in luogo più consono ed iniziamo…… “Wait a moment…” mi dice e cerca qualcosa nella borsetta; qualcosa è un modo diverso di dire “condom”. Di solito non ci mette molto ma stavolta la perquisizione è più lunga del dovuto. “Damned..” capisco che qualcosa non va o meglio che il “qualcosa” non si trova. In pratica non abbiamo condom e la cosa non è piacevole vista la situazione del Big Ben che si trova dalle mie parti inguinali. Ci guardiamo..risata imbarazzante e poi decisione: ci si riveste e si va a cercare i condom. Beh..situazione un pò strana ma alla fine divertente. Usciamo ridendo e lei mi prende in giro chiedendomi perchè ho una banana nella tasca dei pantaloni…”are you hungry?” che detta così, in questa situazione è una cosa piena zeppa di doppi sensi.
Il primo posto dove cerchiamo ci dice male, niente condom. Proviamo un self aperto ma anche qui non ci sono. Ma hanno deciso di scopare tutti stasera? La ricerca ci porta in un altro posto ma orami è tardi ed è chiuso. Torniamo indietro, sembra impossibile ma non ho trovato un condom. Sono abbastanza rassegnato ed anche il Big Ben segna le sei e mezza in tutta tranquillità. Christine mi guarda e mi dice che le spiace, che domani se voglio possiamo vederci..non c'è problema figurati. Un bacio e poi un altro. Mi guarda ancora e poi ricomincia e ci ritroviamo sul letto ed il Big Ben è tornato a mezzanotte. Provo a dirle che non è …mi chiude le labbra con un dito e mi dice che si fida. Al momento non capisco ma è solo questione di un momento. Il resto della notte..beh non ci vuole un genio a capire come è andata.
E' rimasta con me tutta la notte. Non abbiamo parlato di questioni finanziarie. L'ho accompagnata a casa. Un bel appartamento, carino, disordinato all'inverosimile come solo può essere l'appartamento di due ragazze che non hanno voglia di sistemare casa. Mi fermo per un thè e poi già che sono lì andiamo mangiare qualcosa. E' giovedì, domenica ho l'aereo per l'Italia. La saluto con la promessa che tra poche ore sarei stato da lei. And so it was.
In pratica mi trasferisco da lei, mancano tre giorni al mio aereo e si vive una volta sola…..
Avete presente quei film strani con lui e lei che vanno in giro sorridenti con le faccie deficienti con la musichetta allegra.. sole e vento nei capelli..ecco i tre giorni seguenti sono stati così. Ho passato tre giorni in un'altra dimensione. Sesso? Tanto e di più ma non solo. Le cose più belle ed i ricordi più belli sono altri. Ad esempio quando in cucina mentre mangiavamo un pezzo di pizza (pizza hut…), lei insisteva per insegnarmi la sua canzoncina della segreteria. Che c'è di divertente? Provate a cantare con in bocca un pezzo di pizza (pizza hut..intendo) con una ragazza nuda seduta sulle vostre gambe e poi mi direte ….
Poi è arrivata domenica. “Sunday, bloody sunday” è una canzone degli U2 e tratta di tutt'altro ma quella domenica è stata veramente maledetta. Però non è stata triste come si può pensare. Il mattino ci ha trovato svegli, abbiamo passato la notte a parlare e solo a parlare. Mi ha accompagnato all'aereoporto, l'ho vista per l'ultima volta attraverso un vetro e mi è sembrata più bella del primo giorno. Un saluto, un sorriso e via, si vive una volta sola…
Non ho mai più rivisto Christine, sono stato a Londra altre volte ma mai mai ho trovato il coraggio di provare a telefonarle, di cercarla. L'ho fatto una sera qualche anno fa. Una sera speciale in cui la testa va per conto suo e si tracciano linee immaginarie di bilanci di vita e si fa la conta delle cose buone e delle cose cattive che uno ha fatto. Il numero è sempre lì, l'ho ancora adesso a distanza di anni e così quella sera l'ho chiamata. Sono stato fortunato, non lei c'era ma c'era una canzoncina.
….si vive una volta sola….ma dentro si muore tante volte.