Italy Stories - The Patron of Caffe' Roma (Part 5)

On this final day of February 2012, I am celebrating the most successful month in the history of the blog with this final chapter. Have we seen the last of Mike and the Woman?

PART 5 

The two ate mostly in silence as the plates of fritto misto, calamari, and polpo alla griglia made their way to the table in a methodical and slow succession. The restaurant began to fill and the noise level was more than the couple could bear and continue their new dialog. Besides, as Mike had said, the food was the star of the show here; and of course the view.

Mike knew that the greatest part about a meal at Santos was the wonderfully chaotic arrangement of chaise lounge chairs strewn about the grass right at the edge of the sea. In the late spring and summer families pour into the restaurant for long lazy lunches then the adults spend the afternoon in a chaise, chasing elusive sleep while the kids play chase on the beach. Santos is a good place and Mike believed himself to be a good guy.

As the final beers and baklava were cleared from the table Mike ordered two espressos and leaned back in his chair looking at the woman across from him. She was taller than any Italian in the room and it was nice to speak to someone he could look at in the eyes as they walked out towards the chairs.

Puglia was Mike's home now and at the same time this woman reminded him of another place he once called home for years and that made him feel a warmth he thought was unable to return. Brain chemistry always seemed to get the better of Mike and at times he wished he could simply manufacture a reality; and he had tried.

Woman - this chair is so much nicer than I thought it would be, and the sun is so much less intense. I may fall asleep here

Mike - you will not be alone. I think the sea air is good for my road rash

Woman - why don't you put your knee in the water and set those barnacles free?

Mike - you are so funny, how did you master such a demure nature?

Woman - My Dad, or who I thought was my dad and his 3 lunatic sons

Mike - your brothers?

Woman - they were his sons by birth and therefore my adopted brothers. I would never tell anyone they were my relatives though

Mike - why, did they hold you down, fart on you, shit like that?

Woman - actually not at all. Dad was military and his boys were gentlemen all the way; and they treated me like I was some sort of special vase, viewed only at a distance and touched only when I needed dusting.

Mike - that sounds nice

Woman - it sucked! Dad and the boys played sports, went to games, ate burgers, wrestled, cussed, spat, fought, and clearly were the best friends in the world. My mom would try to convince me that I should be a lady, keep to myself, read EM Forster, and play with other girls

Mike - "Be soft, even if you stand to get squashed."

Woman - is that a quote?

Mike - EM Forster

Woman - Oh God! There is really something wrong with you. Are you straight?

Mike - to the point

Woman - did your Mommy make you read that stuff?

Mike - what, like.."a tomb with a view?"

Woman - (laughing hard enough to startle an old sleeping grandpa 10 feet away) Now that is so true. My god I wanted to play sports and run like the boys... I have not spoken to any of them since Dad's funeral

Mike - I am so sorry to hear that

Woman - I am not, I lost my Dad; they lost their best friend and cheerleader. My life got better, theirs I am sure is filled with "remember the times?" and "Dad would- haves"

Mike - man I love the feeling when the coffee cuts through the pasta and my blood lights up like July 4th. I feel like I could run for an hour while writing a novel in my head

Woman - you want t write a novel in your head?

Mike - well sure

Woman - then you are a fucking writer! I knew it, you are a sensitive little man who likes Forster and probably thinks he is Hemingway jumping about Europe looking for a war to affirm his suspect masculinity

Mike - what about you? what about you? I know you are lying about your husband and your fucking villa

Woman - yeah, you do eh? you son of a bitch, you drag me out here hoping to fuck my brains out on some grassy stretch of shore while never telling me who you are, and then you are going to fucking judge me?

Mike - I am not judging you I just see your car doesn't have a speck of dust on it. You don't speak a word of Italian so I know you didn't get it washed in town. You smell like a nice hotel or at least your clothes do. I am just saying, you are brash, and have some obvious Daddy shit happening..

Woman - look motherfucker, this is not cool, you don't know me, you don't know shit about me. You are some super-observant ass who gets his jollies..

Mike - don't say jollies..I hate that fucking word

Woman - see, see where you go with this, bait switch..I thought we were going for a walk. I thought we would keep it light and I would go down on you behind a column of marble or something. Don't you see that I Picked... You... Up and now you are missing it. You are missing the golden egg Mother Goose

Mike - why did you shrink when I said I'm your boy?

Woman - (loud enough now that even Italians are becoming interested) I don't want to cry here, take me somewhere else...fuck this!

Mike - I'm sorry let's walk...I just need to know what is going on

Woman - (through tears and not getting up) why? why does anyone need to know anything? I wanted a vacation I wanted my family to be here

Mike - they are, can't you guys try to work it out?

Woman - they aren't (bawling) they're not here at all. I wanted to find them, I prayed it could change things but it hasn't

Mike - I am so confused (Mike hands her a few of the napkins he took from the table for his leg)

Woman - they're dead.....all of them

Mike - (silence)

Woman - My husband, my daughter and my son are all...gone

Mike - did you...?

Woman - no...no  I was lying...7 months ago we were planning a cycling trip as a family here and we were supposed to go on a training ride as a family . My daughter was very unsure of herself and my husband had been coaxing her to go on longer rides each week to improve her skill and confidence. I had the flu and could not go..and all of them...

(crying so hard her words are slurred and the tears and snot are finding their way all over Mike's arm)...she went over a  train track and her tire slipped and the guys hit her from the back and all 3 went over the rails and into oncoming traffic just as a Schwann truck passed an SUV and he couldn't swerve..he hit all of them directly at 40 miles an hour.......(long pause) the hospital called and told me there had been an accident

....my son was still alive when I got there and they told me they thought he would make it........awwwwww....my husband and daughter were not recognizeable....my son saw me and ....and...and he he..he held my hand and asked if we were still going to come to Italy..I told him yes, yes of course... he said I am so sorry....and I said, you don't have to be sorry....he said - because I'm your boy?....I said...no, you are my little Man...

then there was an alarm and all of these people came running and he..he was shaking..shaking...and he said nothing else..he stopped shaking.....

Mike was holding her hand as tears streamed down his face. He used his other hands to wipe the tears on his leg forgetting about his knee as the salty tears stung his flesh and he gripped her hand tighter.

Woman - I did not take the trip insurance....and so..I stared at the tickets everyday for the past 6 months...I canceled the cycling part.....I had to come...why? why did I have to come? why did you have to talk to me? I have been here for 4 days..I have never left my hotel room till today...I just don't know why I am here...

Mike - maybe this was the only way

Woman - for what?

Mike - to let go...to find some part of you that is still alive? to try to keep a little bit of your path as a person...? I'm sorry I am not good at this

Woman - (wiping her face with her shirt)..who is? who the fuck ever is? I am going to have to go to the villa at some point...I was supposed to finally meet the agent today. He is a really nice old Brit and I have put him off for days. He has no idea what is going on and I could have canceled but I wanted so much to see it to perhaps release some ghosts into the chimney..to say something...besides just sitting in a hotel room crying for days and fucking days!

Mike - I'll go with you...I will go right now. I can call the agent and we will go

Woman - why are you here? I have to know this..I have to know why you are here and what it means

Mike - I am trying to write a book about a travel business that I owned here and could never really love as much as I should have

Woman - well why don't you write it?

Mike - because it is so pale and weak compared to life...my life has been a bowl of fucking cherries

Woman - I doubt it...no one's is -  there is more to this...come on asshole I need to know...tell me!

Mike - she was not very old when we met...(choking back tears)

Woman - now...we are getting somewhere

Mike - (laughing through a cry) I don't even know your name

THE END

Italy Stories - The Patron of Caffe' Roma (Part 5)

On this final day of February 2012, I am celebrating the most successful month in the history of the blog with this final chapter. Have we seen the last of Mike and the Woman?

PART 5 

The two ate mostly in silence as the plates of fritto misto, calamari, and polpo alla griglia made their way to the table in a methodical and slow succession. The restaurant began to fill and the noise level was more than the couple could bear and continue their new dialog. Besides, as Mike had said, the food was the star of the show here; and of course the view.

Mike knew that the greatest part about a meal at Santos was the wonderfully chaotic arrangement of chaise lounge chairs strewn about the grass right at the edge of the sea. In the late spring and summer families pour into the restaurant for long lazy lunches then the adults spend the afternoon in a chaise, chasing elusive sleep while the kids play chase on the beach. Santos is a good place and Mike believed himself to be a good guy.

As the final beers and baklava were cleared from the table Mike ordered two espressos and leaned back in his chair looking at the woman across from him. She was taller than any Italian in the room and it was nice to speak to someone he could look at in the eyes as they walked out towards the chairs.

Puglia was Mike's home now and at the same time this woman reminded him of another place he once called home for years and that made him feel a warmth he thought was unable to return. Brain chemistry always seemed to get the better of Mike and at times he wished he could simply manufacture a reality; and he had tried.

Woman - this chair is so much nicer than I thought it would be, and the sun is so much less intense. I may fall asleep here

Mike - you will not be alone. I think the sea air is good for my road rash

Woman - why don't you put your knee in the water and set those barnacles free?

Mike - you are so funny, how did you master such a demure nature?

Woman - My Dad, or who I thought was my dad and his 3 lunatic sons

Mike - your brothers?

Woman - they were his sons by birth and therefore my adopted brothers. I would never tell anyone they were my relatives though

Mike - why, did they hold you down, fart on you, shit like that?

Woman - actually not at all. Dad was military and his boys were gentlemen all the way; and they treated me like I was some sort of special vase, viewed only at a distance and touched only when I needed dusting.

Mike - that sounds nice

Woman - it sucked! Dad and the boys played sports, went to games, ate burgers, wrestled, cussed, spat, fought, and clearly were the best friends in the world. My mom would try to convince me that I should be a lady, keep to myself, read EM Forster, and play with other girls

Mike - "Be soft, even if you stand to get squashed."

Woman - is that a quote?

Mike - EM Forster

Woman - Oh God! There is really something wrong with you. Are you straight?

Mike - to the point

Woman - did your Mommy make you read that stuff?

Mike - what, like.."a tomb with a view?"

Woman - (laughing hard enough to startle an old sleeping grandpa 10 feet away) Now that is so true. My god I wanted to play sports and run like the boys... I have not spoken to any of them since Dad's funeral

Mike - I am so sorry to hear that

Woman - I am not, I lost my Dad; they lost their best friend and cheerleader. My life got better, theirs I am sure is filled with "remember the times?" and "Dad would- haves"

Mike - man I love the feeling when the coffee cuts through the pasta and my blood lights up like July 4th. I feel like I could run for an hour while writing a novel in my head

Woman - you want t write a novel in your head?

Mike - well sure

Woman - then you are a fucking writer! I knew it, you are a sensitive little man who likes Forster and probably thinks he is Hemingway jumping about Europe looking for a war to affirm his suspect masculinity

Mike - what about you? what about you? I know you are lying about your husband and your fucking villa

Woman - yeah, you do eh? you son of a bitch, you drag me out here hoping to fuck my brains out on some grassy stretch of shore while never telling me who you are, and then you are going to fucking judge me?

Mike - I am not judging you I just see your car doesn't have a speck of dust on it. You don't speak a word of Italian so I know you didn't get it washed in town. You smell like a nice hotel or at least your clothes do. I am just saying, you are brash, and have some obvious Daddy shit happening..

Woman - look motherfucker, this is not cool, you don't know me, you don't know shit about me. You are some super-observant ass who gets his jollies..

Mike - don't say jollies..I hate that fucking word

Woman - see, see where you go with this, bait switch..I thought we were going for a walk. I thought we would keep it light and I would go down on you behind a column of marble or something. Don't you see that I Picked... You... Up and now you are missing it. You are missing the golden egg Mother Goose

Mike - why did you shrink when I said I'm your boy?

Woman - (loud enough now that even Italians are becoming interested) I don't want to cry here, take me somewhere else...fuck this!

Mike - I'm sorry let's walk...I just need to know what is going on

Woman - (through tears and not getting up) why? why does anyone need to know anything? I wanted a vacation I wanted my family to be here

Mike - they are, can't you guys try to work it out?

Woman - they aren't (bawling) they're not here at all. I wanted to find them, I prayed it could change things but it hasn't

Mike - I am so confused (Mike hands her a few of the napkins he took from the table for his leg)

Woman - they're dead.....all of them

Mike - (silence)

Woman - My husband, my daughter and my son are all...gone

Mike - did you...?

Woman - no...no  I was lying...7 months ago we were planning a cycling trip as a family here and we were supposed to go on a training ride as a family . My daughter was very unsure of herself and my husband had been coaxing her to go on longer rides each week to improve her skill and confidence. I had the flu and could not go..and all of them...

(crying so hard her words are slurred and the tears and snot are finding their way all over Mike's arm)...she went over a  train track and her tire slipped and the guys hit her from the back and all 3 went over the rails and into oncoming traffic just as a Schwann truck passed an SUV and he couldn't swerve..he hit all of them directly at 40 miles an hour.......(long pause) the hospital called and told me there had been an accident

....my son was still alive when I got there and they told me they thought he would make it........awwwwww....my husband and daughter were not recognizeable....my son saw me and ....and...and he he..he held my hand and asked if we were still going to come to Italy..I told him yes, yes of course... he said I am so sorry....and I said, you don't have to be sorry....he said - because I'm your boy?....I said...no, you are my little Man...

then there was an alarm and all of these people came running and he..he was shaking..shaking...and he said nothing else..he stopped shaking.....

Mike was holding her hand as tears streamed down his face. He used his other hands to wipe the tears on his leg forgetting about his knee as the salty tears stung his flesh and he gripped her hand tighter.

Woman - I did not take the trip insurance....and so..I stared at the tickets everyday for the past 6 months...I canceled the cycling part.....I had to come...why? why did I have to come? why did you have to talk to me? I have been here for 4 days..I have never left my hotel room till today...I just don't know why I am here...

Mike - maybe this was the only way

Woman - for what?

Mike - to let go...to find some part of you that is still alive? to try to keep a little bit of your path as a person...? I'm sorry I am not good at this

Woman - (wiping her face with her shirt)..who is? who the fuck ever is? I am going to have to go to the villa at some point...I was supposed to finally meet the agent today. He is a really nice old Brit and I have put him off for days. He has no idea what is going on and I could have canceled but I wanted so much to see it to perhaps release some ghosts into the chimney..to say something...besides just sitting in a hotel room crying for days and fucking days!

Mike - I'll go with you...I will go right now. I can call the agent and we will go

Woman - why are you here? I have to know this..I have to know why you are here and what it means

Mike - I am trying to write a book about a travel business that I owned here and could never really love as much as I should have

Woman - well why don't you write it?

Mike - because it is so pale and weak compared to life...my life has been a bowl of fucking cherries

Woman - I doubt it...no one's is -  there is more to this...come on asshole I need to know...tell me!

Mike - she was not very old when we met...(choking back tears)

Woman - now...we are getting somewhere

Mike - (laughing through a cry) I don't even know your name

THE END

Italy Stories - The Patron of Caffe' Roma (Part 4)

I had no intention of continuing this story today; however, the overwhelming support of my fellow bloggers has pushed me to go forward. This will be the penultimate chapter. Cheers!

Mike looked down at the floor of the A5. He noticed little dirt or anything that would suggest the car had been parked at a country villa. He thought this woman must have slaves doing her bidding to keep the car this clean on the infamous white rock  roads of Puglia.

The windows were down and the car was streaming along the coast road to Savelletri. Mike was impressed at how little traffic there was along the sea.  For so many days now it seemed the stream of preening and bronzed revelers would not cease until there was a snowfall; but he knew better. Italians could care less about the actual weather, it was seasons that dictate the cycle of life here. It was now late August and the hordes were returning to Rome, Milan, and Turin, leaving the roads empty and the ditches filled with refuse.

Litter made Mike sick to his stomach and there was plenty along this stunning stretch of sand. Mike never failed to notice the absence of trash in the Italian north and could not understand why the monied came down here and take industrial-sized shits on this piece of paradise. Mike promised himself he would do his best to defecate on the steps of La Galleria Nazionale the next time he was in Milan; or better yet he thought, leave it in a PRADA bag along with a half-eaten BIG MAC.

The woman was concentrating mightily on the road, not noticing that Mike was once again wiping away blood from his knee. It was clear that the wound would heal and there would be a scar. Mike knew there would likely be more before the day was finished.

Woman - are we there yet?

Mike - noooot yeeet

Woman - why are we going to a Greek restaurant in Italy?

Mike - how long have you been here?

Woman - too long

Mike - well then, I am assuming if you see another bowl of pasta you might fall faint , so I am hooking you up here

Woman - hooking me up or we are hooking up?

Mike - you are so subtle so hard to read

Woman - ha...watch this!

The woman pressed hard on the accelerator of the A5. The engine took itself by surprise as the wheels began to tear at the asphalt. Mike grabbed the handle above the door and breathed in very deeply. It was difficult enough for Mike to be out of control and it was clear the woman loved it.

Mike - this is a pretty windy road

Woman - no it isn't, I can see miles ahead of me...are you blind?

Mike - no, I am scared!

Woman - you don't trust me?

Mike - do you?

Woman - do I what?

Mike - trust yourself?

The woman jammed on the brakes and the tell-tale chug of the ABS system brought the car to a sudden and undramatic halt.

Mike - middle of the road huh?

Woman - DRIVE!

Mike - OK

Mike got out and his knee as his knee nearly gave way he narrowly missed being hit by a passing scooter. The woman again laughed at Mike as she slid into the passenger seat.

Woman - my God this door handle is sweaty

Mike - can you blame me?

Woman - how is the knee?

Mike - well my left is worse than my right so this clutch is a bit of a challenge

Woman - I can drive

Mike - no you can't!

Woman - fuck you, you are just a pussy

Mike - I wish that was all I was

Woman - how much further?

Mike - you got somewhere to be?

Woman - why are you here? why do you know so much about this place? why did you pick this town?

Mike - it kind of picked me

Woman - direct answers are not really your bag huh?

Mike - I came here to spend time along the sea and relive something I continue to believe I can relive

Woman - in the meantime you just hustle tourists?

Mike - I am surely the one who gets hustled

Woman - what the hell is that? (looking at a very small vehicle just in front of the car)

Mike - That is an APE (ah-peh)

Woman - what the hell do you do with it?

Mike - it is the most common farm tool in Puglia

Woman - look at that little old man driving it, he is soooo cute. Let's pass him, I want to wave at him

Mike - sure thing

Mike waits for a group of about 7 cyclists to pass in the oncoming lane and gives the A5 a little gas as they pull up next to the faded blue three-wheeled cart. The bags of lime in the bed of the truck-like midget car are leaking a bit and strewing streams of chalk along the sea road. The chalk bounces and in the early afternoon light appears as the images of animals disappearing from a magicians magic hat. The woman is fixated on the driver of the APE.

Woman - ciao buen señor ¿cómo estás hoy

Mike - Spanish again?

Woman - all I got

Mike - ciao signore come va? che bella giornata!

The Old Man - Sanda Tarèse pagò pe' ssènde é jji sèndeche nudde

Woman - What did he say?

Mike - (pressing on the gas and blowing by the Ape) - essentially, you need to shut the fuck up because you have nothing to say!

Woman - ahhh

Mike - sweet, we are here

They pull onto a white rock road and dust flies in all directions. The whitewashed building like all the others along the sea was trimmed in blue and looked much like a cafe in Santorini. In classic and cheesy Greek-style lettering was a sign that said SANTOS

Mike - the calamari here is unreal

Woman - maybe they could scrape some off of your knee if they run low...I mean are they going to let you in here bleeding

Mike - I probably won't be the only bloody person here

Woman - is this a restaurant or triage?

Mike - after the amount of food we are going to eat it might be both

Woman - OH MY GOD! Look at the ocean

Mike - it's a sea

Woman - its fucking water your pedantic motherfucker!

Mike - calma, Madonna!

Woman - do not speak French to me

Mike - does it make you wet?

Woman - yuck, you are such a silly little man

Mike - I do my best

The server came over after at least 5 full minutes of standing at the counter and staring intermittently at the sea and his phone. He was a young man of less than 30 years, air-brushed perfect skin, dark eyes, and sun-bleached brown hair. This was the kind of guy who preferred to spend 16-20 hours a day in a Speedo, and he could. He was in no hurry and there was not a single other person in the restaurant. The server took their order and brought over two icy Mythos beers before disappearing out the back door while pulling his smokes from some impossibly tight space between his shirt and the golden skin of his chest.

Woman - if this place is so good, why is it empty?

Mike - it's too early

Woman - Its 1:20 in the afternoon

Mike - yeah, lunch really gets' going about 1:55

Woman - so precisely?

Mike - yeah, it is really 2, but the early bird Italians get here at 1:55 to grab the seats they like while the slackers from the beach get here about 2:01 and always have this look of surprise on their face that so many people would be here. You would think that after, I don't know, 8 or 9 generations of people with the same looks on their faces that more than a handful might start to be early.

Woman - then there would be no dance

Mike - wow, you catch on quickly. Day to-day life for someone who makes $1000 a month must be more exciting than the money can buy. Drama is a 12 hour matinée called daylight and these people embrace it so perfectly

Woman - it would make me crazy

Mike - you say that, but hang out here long enough and the joy of fighting over the price of a toilet brush or other such banality becomes therapeutic. The rituals of making things difficult here that we find so easy to accomplish at home fills the days. I call it the principle of 4 things

Woman - this I gotta hear

Mike - in essence, a productive day in southern Italy is about accomplishing 4 things.

Woman - eat, smoke, fuck, and argue?

Mike - you must have Italian blood in you.

Woman - I have no idea, I am adopted

Mike - oh yeah?

Woman - I have never really wanted to know my birth parents. I always figured, fuck them for leaving me on a doorstep

Mike - they really did that?

Woman - yes, and I floated down the Nile like Moses...no dumbass it was a figure of speech

Mike - typically I don't let people call me names

Woman - but today you will let me do or say anything I want... because I have the car... and the vagina

Mike - check please!

...to be continued

Italy Stories - The Patron of Caffe' Roma (Part 3)

Mike laughed out loud as he paid for coffee while the woman checked her iPhone. He knew this day started off as none had before and he wondered where this might lead. Would her husband show up like the one in Ft Worth who sidled up next to him in a restaurant booth while he sat chatting with the man's wife?

Mike played that one very cool and made the guy seem foolish for his accusatory behavior. Mike slept with the man's wife only two days later and while he enjoyed the drama of the chase he had little regard for the awkward sex. She visited him again some months later and the sex was even worse. He knew he would never see her again after that. Mike found out a few weeks later that the girl's husband had hung himself in the bedroom when she went to work and their baby was asleep in the other room. The toddler found her father strung up and thought it was a game. When the mom came home, the 29 month old said "Daddy's not here anymore." Mike only knew this because the girl called him hoping for a little solace; Mike had none to offer.

Mike brushed aside the morbid thoughts of death and the like because today's woman was different. She was tall, cocky, and clearly much more discreet than her dramatic entrance to Caffe' Roma would suggest. He knew that if he found some way into her for the day she would be happy for at least a moment in time. Mike was addicted to giving joy. He had little more than a few dollars to his name, ate sparingly for his age, and yet the allure of this chase in particular reminded him of days long since passed.

Woman - are you coming? I have to be somewhere

Mike - yes, the fucking ATM (mocking her delivery)

Woman - can we please get on with this?

Mike - why the rush, you seemed so content to chill and talk and suddenly you have to be somewhere?

The woman went out the door without saying another word and began in the opposite direction of the Bancomat. Mike walked after her turned her gently by the shoulder and led her through the maze of market vendors. The smell of mussels, sea-air, and sun-dried fish guts was already oppressive in the August heat. The sun was intense in the summer mornings and almost always gave way to cooling breezes by evening. Mike could not help but think he would love to have his way with this woman along an olive tree-strewn veranda while the wind brushed against the old Italian linen curtains. He knew it was not a likely scenario but the thought distracted him and he slipped on the drying body of an octopus, and fell right on his hands and knees.

Woman - ouch! shit are you OK?

Vendor - attenzione signore il terreno e bagnato (under his breath) cretino straniero...

Mike - no shit man..fucking octopus...aaagh my fucking knee

Woman - do you need help? I have no idea how to help you. should I call 911?

Mike - that won't do anything for you here

Woman - i have some wet wipes

Mike - yeah...that might help..I have a little road rash

Mike got to his feet and noticed his hands were also scraped and smelled of rotting sea flesh. Mike stumbled over to a concrete bench near the nut and olive vendor. In the stinging pain of wet-wipe alcohol across his hand he could not help but notice that the quality of the olives had really diminished over the years and that the olive vendor must have been wearing the same white wife-beater for the past two weeks. There were cigarette burns, coffee stains, and nut dust all over the shirt, yet he had one of the busiest stalls at the market. I guess everyone in Puglia needs nuts and olives and filthy shirt or not, this was their guy.

Mike suddenly realized the woman was actually examining his knees. Mike rarely wore shorts and on this day he had hoped to go for a long walk along the sea and shorts were the way to go. Now his bare knees were dripping a little blood and covered in a lot of black road scum. The woman was diligently tending to the blood and dirt and at that point Mike knew she was actually a good mother.

In the moment when he became the victim and not the guide she became the mom. Mike liked this and began to like her. He had really kind of loathed her in the shop and at the same time he felt compelled to dig deeper. Now she was digging squid remnants from his knee and something was different.

After 10 minutes of silence Mike looked at the woman and they moved on. There was just enough shift in the universe to bring the world to a stop and now there was something easier in all of this than before.

They made it to the ATM after a few extra limping minutes and the woman once again bent down to look at Mike's wounds.

Woman - I think you'll live

MIke - how much time do I have?

Woman - to live?

Mike - to take you with me to the sea

Woman - I think my plans just canceled

Mike - would you like some new ones?

Woman - are you asking me on a date?

Mike - I am asking you to the sea...it is much better than a date

Woman - well then, had you been asking me on a date I would have declined but since it is better, sign me up

Mike - I think we need a car

Woman - I have one of those

The two walked back to Caffe Roma where the woman's car was parked along a playground curb in an emergency vehicle space. There was a white strip of paper flapping in the wind under the windshield wiper of her black Audi A5.

Mike - looks like you got a ticket...I am impressed that the cops were working in this sun

Woman - very fucking funny, just my goddamned luck

Mike - from the looks of your car 15 euro won't set you back too much

Woman - whatever, just deal with it for me please

Mike - I'm your boy

Woman - (obviously hurt) please don't say that

Mike - I'm sorry did not mean to be course

Woman - just the way you said boy reminded me of something I don't want to be reminded of

Mike - (putting the ticket in his pocket) hmmm, you are parked illegally, but I don't see any tickets...nice one. You are truly embracing the Southern Italian spirit

Woman - civil disobedience?

Mike - more like lazy and careless ignorance...traits I try to employ in my own life (smile)

Woman - are we going to the sea or what? I have been here 4 days and have not seen the Mediterranean

Mike - well you won't see it today either

Woman - what?

Mike - this is the Adriatic Sea

Woman - call it whatever you want. It is the Mediterranean to me. Mediterranean diet, Mediterranean people, Mediterranean sea...

Mike - I think I see a ticket on your window

Woman - shut the fuck up and tell me where to go

...to be continued

Italy Stories - The Patron of Caffe' Roma (Part 3)

Mike laughed out loud as he paid for coffee while the woman checked her iPhone. He knew this day started off as none had before and he wondered where this might lead. Would her husband show up like the one in Ft Worth who sidled up next to him in a restaurant booth while he sat chatting with the man's wife?

Mike played that one very cool and made the guy seem foolish for his accusatory behavior. Mike slept with the man's wife only two days later and while he enjoyed the drama of the chase he had little regard for the awkward sex. She visited him again some months later and the sex was even worse. He knew he would never see her again after that. Mike found out a few weeks later that the girl's husband had hung himself in the bedroom when she went to work and their baby was asleep in the other room. The toddler found her father strung up and thought it was a game. When the mom came home, the 29 month old said "Daddy's not here anymore." Mike only knew this because the girl called him hoping for a little solace; Mike had none to offer.

Mike brushed aside the morbid thoughts of death and the like because today's woman was different. She was tall, cocky, and clearly much more discreet than her dramatic entrance to Caffe' Roma would suggest. He knew that if he found some way into her for the day she would be happy for at least a moment in time. Mike was addicted to giving joy. He had little more than a few dollars to his name, ate sparingly for his age, and yet the allure of this chase in particular reminded him of days long since passed.

Woman - are you coming? I have to be somewhere

Mike - yes, the fucking ATM (mocking her delivery)

Woman - can we please get on with this?

Mike - why the rush, you seemed so content to chill and talk and suddenly you have to be somewhere?

The woman went out the door without saying another word and began in the opposite direction of the Bancomat. Mike walked after her turned her gently by the shoulder and led her through the maze of market vendors. The smell of mussels, sea-air, and sun-dried fish guts was already oppressive in the August heat. The sun was intense in the summer mornings and almost always gave way to cooling breezes by evening. Mike could not help but think he would love to have his way with this woman along an olive tree-strewn veranda while the wind brushed against the old Italian linen curtains. He knew it was not a likely scenario but the thought distracted him and he slipped on the drying body of an octopus, and fell right on his hands and knees.

Woman - ouch! shit are you OK?

Vendor - attenzione signore il terreno e bagnato (under his breath) cretino straniero...

Mike - no shit man..fucking octopus...aaagh my fucking knee

Woman - do you need help? I have no idea how to help you. should I call 911?

Mike - that won't do anything for you here

Woman - i have some wet wipes

Mike - yeah...that might help..I have a little road rash

Mike got to his feet and noticed his hands were also scraped and smelled of rotting sea flesh. Mike stumbled over to a concrete bench near the nut and olive vendor. In the stinging pain of wet-wipe alcohol across his hand he could not help but notice that the quality of the olives had really diminished over the years and that the olive vendor must have been wearing the same white wife-beater for the past two weeks. There were cigarette burns, coffee stains, and nut dust all over the shirt, yet he had one of the busiest stalls at the market. I guess everyone in Puglia needs nuts and olives and filthy shirt or not, this was their guy.

Mike suddenly realized the woman was actually examining his knees. Mike rarely wore shorts and on this day he had hoped to go for a long walk along the sea and shorts were the way to go. Now his bare knees were dripping a little blood and covered in a lot of black road scum. The woman was diligently tending to the blood and dirt and at that point Mike knew she was actually a good mother.

In the moment when he became the victim and not the guide she became the mom. Mike liked this and began to like her. He had really kind of loathed her in the shop and at the same time he felt compelled to dig deeper. Now she was digging squid remnants from his knee and something was different.

After 10 minutes of silence Mike looked at the woman and they moved on. There was just enough shift in the universe to bring the world to a stop and now there was something easier in all of this than before.

They made it to the ATM after a few extra limping minutes and the woman once again bent down to look at Mike's wounds.

Woman - I think you'll live

MIke - how much time do I have?

Woman - to live?

Mike - to take you with me to the sea

Woman - I think my plans just canceled

Mike - would you like some new ones?

Woman - are you asking me on a date?

Mike - I am asking you to the sea...it is much better than a date

Woman - well then, had you been asking me on a date I would have declined but since it is better, sign me up

Mike - I think we need a car

Woman - I have one of those

The two walked back to Caffe Roma where the woman's car was parked along a playground curb in an emergency vehicle space. There was a white strip of paper flapping in the wind under the windshield wiper of her black Audi A5.

Mike - looks like you got a ticket...I am impressed that the cops were working in this sun

Woman - very fucking funny, just my goddamned luck

Mike - from the looks of your car 15 euro won't set you back too much

Woman - whatever, just deal with it for me please

Mike - I'm your boy

Woman - (obviously hurt) please don't say that

Mike - I'm sorry did not mean to be course

Woman - just the way you said boy reminded me of something I don't want to be reminded of

Mike - (putting the ticket in his pocket) hmmm, you are parked illegally, but I don't see any tickets...nice one. You are truly embracing the Southern Italian spirit

Woman - civil disobedience?

Mike - more like lazy and careless ignorance...traits I try to employ in my own life (smile)

Woman - are we going to the sea or what? I have been here 4 days and have not seen the Mediterranean

Mike - well you won't see it today either

Woman - what?

Mike - this is the Adriatic Sea

Woman - call it whatever you want. It is the Mediterranean to me. Mediterranean diet, Mediterranean people, Mediterranean sea...

Mike - I think I see a ticket on your window

Woman - shut the fuck up and tell me where to go

...to be continued