"Spaghetti Western Love"
Formally General Italy & Captain America
Her long vanilla colored blond hair had sun shining off of it. Her thin hands looked older then her age, her face was delightful and young by day, drawn and old by night after a wine bottle. Her dress was soft, floating on her thin frame; the white bright sweater was perfect for the weather of six in the morning. Smiling large and shaking a tiny bit from the excitement of the possibilities ahead. The high heels clicked on the airport tiles lifting her to 5 feet 5.Three inch heels. Her teeth looked like she had done drugs or had an eating disorder in the semi-distant past. Her purse was expensive but not for her as it was bought at a high end fashion house with her employee discount.
When she spoke to the counter person for the busses back to Milan she sounded sweet in one sentence, callous in the next. Apologizing and fretting about choosing the bus as travel mode instead of the train. She was worried that it wouldn’t be perfect. She doesn’t understand, nothing is perfect and trying for perfection leads to great flaws and problems. She smelled woman like, so feminine and little crunching into the man whose arm she held to. She was thirty three with nineteen year old quality’s, believing love is more important than jobs, food, and water.
She loved her American; found him on Facebook three years earlier, two years earlier she spent two evenings with him in New York. The whole thing sounded idiotic out loud, she kept some details to herself. After the trip ended she would have a pregnancy scare and that would compound the reality of the internet. She imaged telling her friends of her new love and husband who she meant on Facebook from America and got pregnant during their second meeting. She would appear to be a scammer trying to get to the USA by any means necessary. She wanted him and a baby with him, but not with this horrible story attached. She would not abort either. She already had many years earlier causing her “great emotional pain“she said, to the few people she told. This topic alone drove her slightly mad.
After he left there was confusion in her belly and back. She was holistic so she was wrapped in plastic wrap with ointments added. She prayed to Buddha. She also had to make a trip to the hospital of normal medication. The American was insensitive, he wanted her to take a pregnancy test right away, and he didn’t understand that she felt she should wait till her fashion house job ended forty five days from that time. She didn’t want to cry at work if she were with child. How could he be so cruel?
Leading her American threw Milan she stopped for espresso and croissant, she called this breakfast. After getting him back to her sister’s apartment she pushed him onto the bed in the hot still Italian summer air. Dress pulled over her head and heels on; she climbed atop the bed pulling cloths from him, him pulling bra and panties from her. Two and a half years on Skype and now flesh to flesh. Her skin was soft, her breasts cute, small but perfect. Shoulders were dainty and hips weren’t wide but still giving the shapely figure of a slim woman. She slid down him for an hour of hot summer, deprived sex. Sweat was everywhere like it rained warm water into the bed. He passed out from the flight, the sex, the heat. She went to her father’s for a short term loan until her check arrived.
Four or five times over the course of the week, she would explain how she will end the friendship with the best friend in Tuscany. This friend ruined her hard work to make this vacation the perfect experience. The ex –best friend and husband had stayed many times at her apartment with their baby when visiting Milan. She would go to her sister’s home for the week, every month for a year she did this for them. But this trip they would not accommodate the situation for her! Her sister hated them anyway. This friend would ruin what was to be the perfect trip. This caused the need for the short term loan.
The first evening she had a friend with an English speaking boyfriend and a car come to get them. They drove Milan, walked cobble stone trendy streets, stood in front of the Castle, and threw up their middle fingers with the statue that does the same across the street from Milan’s government building. Walking through squares and drinking champagne from the region. “You are so different tonight” the friend said in Italian. The American made her different and the surging feelings and compulsions to complain and be jaded and negative had subsided for awhile. She was very tipsy that evening.
The second night she brought the American to her friend the Brazilian English speaking divorcees home. The Brazilian was an ex-model and she had her friend the South African ex-model with her. The American and the Brazilian smoked marijuana the Brazilian and the Vanilla haired girl drank wine and the South African and the American drank water. While driving to pizza threw Milan it was the perfect lighting the perfect weather the perfect speed the perfect music, the girls danced and drove even the American sang and danced a little. Everyone felt perfect; the night guided itself and our travelers. Then back at the Brazilians’, the South African left the Brazilian and the American smoked more and she drank more wine, she was drunk and sluggish. Showering the American with attention and dancing like a stripper. When he felt uncomfortable and reached out to calm her, she mistook this as a sexual move and said” nooo not in my girlfriends’ home”. For the three block walk he held her with one arm as she moved her feet in the air, simulating sober person walking. As they walked past the hooker, “Amore” she said “I don’t like feeling like this”.
She passed out like a drunken girl in any country on earth. The American was up all night. Stressing and smoking even though he had quit. He had to clean up a fallen ashtray from under the bed, he had to clean up cat shit from the kitchen floor, and he watched the hookers down below from the balcony unable to sleep. He set the alarm on his cell phone that was charging in her laptop but of no phone use in Italy. The American fell asleep at daylight and woke up at eight am to his alarm. He knew she would melt down if he didn’t get her to get them to the train station in time. The train they had reservations for that would be taking them to Legendary Venice.
She was happy on the train to Venice with her amore. The disgusting sweaty, girthy, pig of a man next to her didn’t even bother her. She smiled at the American and was blissfully in love, she wanted espresso and Marlboro lights badly. She didn’t even remember the previous night past the point where they had returned to the Brazilians. She remembered a beautiful night with her friends and her amore. The American seemed a little different.
