Eleonora finally lets go and I allow myself to breathe. If they hadn’t interrupted us I would have died of asphyxiation.
‘Well, you could’ve said you had other tastes.’
Teo’s voice jolts me back to reality and almost gives me a heart attack. I spring back, away from the desk and my colleague, who is wearing an expression somewhere between mortification and satisfaction.
‘I have no taste!’ I exclaim.
‘In clothing, certainly not,’ concedes Teo. ‘In romantic relationships, though, well…’
I point a finger at him. ‘No you don’t! I like men! No offence, eh,’ I add, turning to Eleonora. I’m not angry with her, although she could have told me without attacking me.
‘No offence taken,’ she replies with a sly smile. ‘Sometimes we try to convince ourselves.’
‘Plausible. Your vehemence in affirming that you like men could be overcompensating to hide your true preferences,’ agrees Teo.
‘That’s just what I was thinking,’ says Eleonora approvingly
‘Have you both lost your minds? Leave me alone!’
Eleonora fulfils my wish, although not without first giving me a wink that I don’t answer.
Teo remains standing in the doorway even when she has gone. I must have ended up in a nightmare!
‘Which part of my request is not clear to you? I said that I want to be alone!’
‘I’m here to talk business. On Thursday I would like to start running through the schedule for the pilot.’
I scowl, annoyed ‘You and your business can go and…’
‘Now, now, doctor! You know it’s not clever to use bad language. What would your students say? Of course,
I don’t suppose they realise you’re so… busy. I thought I’d ended up on a porn movie set.’
Now I’m really mad. Without even realising I’m doing it, I’m on him like a fury, seizing the collar of his shirt.
‘Listen to me, you. You may have an uncanny knack of walking in at the worst moments, but that does not give you the right to make fun of me.’
‘I can’t help it, you’re just too comical. Which brings me back to my speech. Semiotic Diversions, does that work for you? I thought we could play on the double sense of language.’
I let go of him and give him a shove. ‘Listen,
I don’t know what drivel you have prepared, but before making a fool of myself on international TV I have to read and approve the script. If not, nothing happens. And anyway I can’t Thursday.’
‘What do you have to do, topless mud wrestling?’ he asks, suppressing a laugh.
‘Funny. I have a date.’
‘Oh, so it’s serious! Should I congratulate you?’
‘Not with Eleonora, you idiot! I have a date… with a man.’
‘Who?’ he asks, suddenly alert and slightly subdued.
‘None of your business. Now leave me alone, for God’s sake!’ I say, throwing him out of my office and closing the door in his face. I rest my forehead on the solid wood and I try to push back a headache: I finally have a date with the man I am supposed to like, but I’m not ecstatic. I’ve just discovered that my colleague is attracted to me. Worst of all, I feel a strange burning sensation in my hand, the same hand that held Teo by the neck.
If I’m not myself again soon, I’m in for a world of trouble.
19
Teo
She slammed the door in my face!
God, the fact that I am more bothered by that than by having caught her kissing another woman really ought to make me think.
Why, then? I didn’t give the episode too much importance: Sara stood there, her eyes wide and her body stiff, too stunned to move. More than anything else, it was a weird sight. As I drive to work afterwards, one thought occupies my mind: she has a date.
There, this is what infuriates me. Certainly not because I’m interested in her, absolutely not. I just can’t stand the fact that she stood me up like that. Me, the king of the Latin lovers, the most desired by the most beautiful girls in Naples.
If my friends could see me now, I would be a laughing stock. Losing sleep and energy over a woman about as tall as a munchkin! It’s unheard of. And even liking her!
No, no, I don’t like her! She irritates me, she makes me angry, she is absolutely intolerable.
‘Stupid cow!’ I exclaim, giving a my steering wheel a thump. The blaring horn turns the head of more than one pedestrian on the pavement, but I cheerfully raise my middle finger and proceed quickly. This is really not my day, and my mood is getting worse by the minute. I have the format file on my computer and my father is pestering me to see the finished job, and that witch has the nerve to make a date right on the day I need her!
There, that’s why I’m so angry, no doubt about it. No one brushes me off when I ask to see them.
Oh, I’ll make her sorry for it, see if I don’t. I’ll make her sorry and… no, enough, I need to get myself laid as soon as possible! All this abstinence is sending me wrong in the head. With a sharp turn, I pull up in my parking space and scroll through my contacts. Among the millions of names I find not one that inspires me.
Maybe… maybe there is Lidia. Lidia is famous for her remarkable talents, which are essentially an impressive rack and a brain the size of a walnut. But the brain only needs to be big enough to command the legs to open, and at that she is the best.
I quickly send a message as I open the door. Yes, Lidia does it for me, that’s for sure.
‘Chief! Finally, Chief! I found you again!’
‘Holy shit, Gennaro! Are you trying to kill me off?’
Gennaro raises his hand in apology and starts to brush a hair from my shoulder.
‘Chief, I have been looking for you for three days. I’ve been standing here in the wind and the rain.’
‘Since you know me well by now, you should know that I don’t come to the studio every day.’
‘I know how lazy… er, busy you are. But I had to find you, Chief! I wrote a song. And what a song…’
I dismiss him with a gesture. I have no time to waste.
‘This is really not the time. I have a lot to do.’
Gennaro gives me a thunderous pat on the shoulder and roars with laughter. ‘That’s a good one! You should do stand up!’
I run a hand across my forehead in exasperation. ‘If you’re trying to ingratiate yourself, you’re not succeeding.’
‘Come on, don’t be offended. You’re a good kid. I can see it in your face. But then, who likes working? I don’t. I have to do it for the sake of the kids, but if I could I would live your life.’
‘And what life is that, in your opinion?’
‘You’re joking, aren’t you? Beautiful women, beautiful car, come in to work when you want, leave when you want. What more could you want? You are the happiest man in the world!’
Am I? Suddenly I’m not so sure. I used to be, but somehow a feeling of dissatisfaction has crept under my skin and I don’t know how to get rid of it.
Gennaro seems to sense my discomfort. ‘Ohhh, I know that face. You have problems of the heart.’
I shoot him a furious look. ‘My heart is fine, thank you.’
‘Ha! Pull the other one. It’s like when I met my missus. I tell you what, I was a proper lad in my younger days, Chief. Love ‘em and leave ‘em. Wham bam, thank you ma’am! Gennaro The Scourge of Women, they called me. These old hands have touched a fair few…’
‘Ok, ok. Save me the details. I’m not interested in your sexual adventures. At all.’
‘You have the same expression as I had when I fell for Giuseppina, my wife. Ah, what memories! She threw a vase at my face. Almost killed me!’
He tells the story with a dreamy air. Apart from the disturbingly gooey expression on his pudgy face, there is one small detail that bothers me.
‘Sorry, so – a woman almost kills you and you call that love?’
Gennaro takes my arm. ‘What you’ve got to understand, Chief, is that
Love is a fickle mistress. She can disguise herself, play cruel tricks on you. She pretends to be anger, or contempt, but underneath …’
Underneath, I’m starting to feel decidedly uncomfortable. This conversation has gone on far too long.
‘All right. You’ve done your daily show. Now bugger off and let me get to work.’
‘Don’t forget to tell all your friends that you know a good singer!’
I shake my arm loose. ‘I told you I can’t help you, I’m sorry.’
‘You’ll be sorry! One day I’ll be famous! Gennaro, the singer with his heart in his hands, will make the whole world fall in love! You see? I even give beautiful speeches!’
I shake my head, exasperated. ‘If it weren’t for your accent…’
‘But you don’t understand. This is me. I’m a one-off. I take a woman and sing directly into her soul. They either love me or they will love me. Women, Chief, are only interested in one thing.’
‘Your wallet?’ I ask wryly.
‘Your heart. And that is why I keep my heart in my hands, always. As a gift for those who want to fall in love.’
Ok, this is really too much. ‘Great hanging out with you, Gennaro, but you really do talk some bollocks. Women want a functioning credit card and a big dick. You can save the heart in your hands for your cardiologist.’
And with that I finally make my escape. I can feel the mother of all headaches coming on.
*
The Borgo Marinari is especially picturesque during the week. Nestled by the sea and with an ancient feel, it cocoons you from the chaos and bustle of the city. I called Lidia, who didn’t take much persuading, and brought her here for seafood. The other standout feature of the Borgo Marinari are the insane prices charged by the restaurants. But who cares, if I can fix up a pleasant evening, it will have been worth it. God knows, I need it. All the stress and frustration I’ve built up over the past month because of that devil woman…
‘You’re looking good tonight, Baby,’ says Lidia, stealing me away from my speculations.
I look at her. I suppose I should pay her some attention, otherwise she could decide not to put out to look like a woman of principle.
Pretty weak principles, because I doubt that she will resist my proven technique. On her I know it will work.
‘You’re looking pretty good yourself, Lidia. Prosecco?’ I ask, gallantly. She is beautiful, a lithe, voluptuous body poured into a dangerously short emerald green dress that complements her complexion and brings out her eyes. Not many women could get away with a colour like that.
She crosses legs and… damn! No underwear! She’s really prepared! When it comes to me, there are no illusions. I never leave with just a goodnight kiss. Well, apart from that evening at the observatory.
Why am I thinking about the observatory? This is surely not the time to be worrying about that. If I didn’t continue it was because I wasn’t interested, and there’s nothing more to say.
We eat in near silence. Lidia is beautiful, it’s true, but she has the brain of a sloth. My attempts to make conversation fall on deaf ears. But then why would I want to have a conversation? The way she licks her lips and tugs at the hem of her dress are eloquent enough. I shouldn’t need anything else. And yet…
‘What is it you’re doing these days, Lidia?’
‘A bit of this, a bit of that. I’ve been casting for reality shows. Maybe they’ll take me on. That would be a dream come true!’
‘Profound, what can I say?’ I reply, unable to hide my sarcasm. But then who I am to judge? We produce and sell formats for reality shows ourselves. Reality shows are successful. You have to follow the market, after all.
‘You think? I’ve always been very ambitious. Of course, I can afford to be. I don’t have a thread of cellulite, you know,’ she murmurs, lowering her tone and leaning forward slightly to show off her cleavage.
I also lean in slightly, imitating her posture. ‘I don’t know whether to believe you, I’d have to touch them to be sure.’
Her smile tells me she agrees and with one hand I signal the waiter to bring us the bill. Less than half an hour later, we’re back at at my house. I drove like a madman all the way. As soon as I close the door she assails me, sucking my earlobe and letting me know that she doesn’t want to waste time. I don’t need telling twice. I urge her onwards, taking her breasts in both hands. They are inviting and firm. God, I need sex. Lidia bends down and unbuttons my pants with the confidence of a consummate and expert lover. I tremble, impatient for her to continue.
‘Get ready for paradise,’ she whispers in my ear before turning downwards and doing what she does best.
I feel her soft mouth envelop me and I grab at her head, horny as hell. She really knows what she’s doing! She moves with a slow and agonising rhythm, and it seems to me that fire envelops every muscle of my body. I had forgotten this feeling. An unusual period of abstinence is to blame. I’m almost at the apex and I feel like I’m going insane.
‘Oh God, Sara, yes!’ I gasp, preparing myself for approaching orgasm.
‘My name is not Sara, you disgusting pig!’ she hisses, reassembling herself and crossing her arms over her chest. Her body language is saying ‘take me home immediately’.
I pull myself together, not without difficulty, and straighten up my hair. I really needed this! What the hell was I thinking?
‘Lidia, you don’t understand… I don’t …’
‘I understood very well! I’m not stupid, you know?’
‘Don’t be offended, you’re perfect, but…’
‘I’m not Sara.’
She’s not Sara. That’s for sure. Sara hasn’t a fraction of her beauty… and she hasn’t an atom of Sara’s brains and character… It’s official, I’m crazy.
‘You’re definitely not Sara, but it’s not like you think … I…’
‘There’s nothing to explain… take me home, and next time ask her out. I don’t do sloppy seconds.’
We sit in silence, not looking at each other once for the entire car journey. When I start the engine the vibrations cause painful twinges in my abdomen. I’ll need to take a cold shower when I get back home.
What is going on in my head? All I needed to do was keep my mouth shut, and now… her again, ruining things! That woman spoils my plans even from a distance.
20
Sara
Just for the record, I love Japanese culture. Japanese theatre, Japanese cinema, Japanese manga. But not sushi, no. Sushi just doesn’t do it for me.
The dish, intricate and beautiful, sits in front of me for about ten minutes. The professor is tucking in freely and seems to be enjoying it, while I can’t hide my distaste. How can I eat raw fish? I am aware of being a bit picky when it comes to food, it is one of my weaknesses.
‘Aren’t you hungry?’ he asks, eyeing my plate.
What should I do? Confess or sacrifice myself for the greater good?
I’ve worn a coordinated suit, for once. Will I finally be able to give it the baptism it deserves tonight? How long have I been waiting for this moment? Too long, that’s for sure.
‘Of course. It’s just so beautiful that I’m sorry to destroy it,’ I reply, trying to make my smile more convincing.
Would playing footsie be too blatant? I have the feeling he is a man who needs a lot of encouragement.
‘Eat up. Don’t be shy, my dear. Prepare yourself for an astonishing sensory experience.’
He accompanies this statement with a pressure on my foot that is not at all ambiguous. Hey! About time. Maybe my suit really will take flight tonight. I should be as excited as a koala that fell into a pile of eucalyptus leaves. Finally some sex! But I don’t feel at all like I thought I would. On the other hand, I’d be quite happy to move the evening somewhere other than this…
Encouraged by the implicit promise, I widen my smile, and then I realise that he has grabbed my chopsticks: he seems determined to feed me. Raw fish for a shag? I decide it’s worth it and open my m
outh, praying it won’t be too awful. The morsel arrives on my tongue and at first it doesn’t seem too bad. There isn’t a particularly intense taste.
‘Just one bite, otherwise you’ll ruin the experience. Get ready to feel heaven,’ he murmurs encouragingly.
I close my teeth obediently, but the only thing I feel is my stomach reflexively protesting: this piece of fish is very, very raw and I can’t bring myself to enjoy the experience at all. If only he would look away for a minute! I could spit it into a napkin or add some fertilizer to the plant on my right… But no! He looks at me, intent, eager to know what I think.
‘Isn’t it delicious?’
I perform an act of great courage and swallow the evil morsel, trying not to cry and thinking of enjoying something more inviting, like pizza. Ah, pizza! That’s real food.
‘It’s really… unusual. Thanks so much for the suggestion.’
He nods, satisfied. I notice with horror that he still wields the chopsticks… surely he won’t want to…
I see him tinkering with a small container full of a greenish paste. He takes a little and mixes it with soy sauce. What’s this? I’m not a big fan of sauces.
He dips another bundle into the concoction.
‘Here, try this. Sushi without wasabi makes no sense.’
‘No, really…’ I try to refuse, smearing myself against the back of my chair
‘Come on, don’t be shy. We must have an open mind to new tastes and new and exciting experiences.’
Am I having hallucinations or did he just wink at me? Was that a veiled proposal? Galvanized, I decide to take the risk, apologising silently to my digestive system: it’s for a higher purpose. I open my mouth again. Basically I just have to forget that I’m eating raw stuff, right?
As the roll lands, I do not fully realise the terrible mistake I have made, but a few seconds later, it seems to me that the bowels of hell have erupted directly inside my mouth. It’s disgusting. I tighten my lips, but it’s too late now: I either spit and
look like a moron, or swallow and condemn myself to destroying my stomach. Tonight I have discovered with absolute certainty that I like neither sushi nor the sauces that are used to flavour it.
Not My Type Page 13