Voglio fa' l'Americanu
I think there's a giant sign posted in the housing department of my dorm here saying "Sketchy Romans? Put them on the 11th floor. Alex'll take care of THEM." Just a week after Lucas moved out (he is now apparently living in sin with a Russian nymphomaniac druggie... gotta love him) who should move in but Felice. "Happy".
Felice accosted me in the hallway the other night, as I was running out the door to the film screening (which will be discussed later). We talked... he told me he had seen me the other night "in the red miniskirt." I was vaguely creeped out and indicated that I had to go. He called my room three times that night.
Oh, and yes, he was in his underwear when I met him. Lovely.
After my long rant about how I was going to avoid all future phone calls on the room number, I made the mistake of picking up. On the other line-- the siren tones of Mr. Happy! He informed me that he was bored and my mission, of course, was to entertain. Alas, I had homework, but he insisted I stop by afterwards. After much bitching and moaning, I decide it won't kill me, so I go next door, and there he is in his underwear again! He finally clothed himself somewhat, leaving the belt conspicuously undone, and proceeded to regale me with such topics of conversation as:
- His military past. His drug addict / dealer (still not sure which) past. His messed up family. His war experiences.
- The horrid state of the world today and how half of Asia should be blown up-- "a good start".
-How he fell in love with a Croatian prostitute, but you know, slept with her a few times just because she was in the business anyway.
- "You have very sexy hands. Why do you wear nail polish? Here, let me take it off for you."
- "Your legs... in that miniskirt... You must do a lot of sports. Those are good strong legs. You could take me down. We should wrestle."
WE SHOULD WRESTLE?
I demurred, pointing to the half of the ashtray I was responsible for, but he insisted, "You say you're not athletic anymore, but with a body like that..."
What the hell?
posted by Alex @ 07:44
4 Comments:
You may consider, with those good strong legs, detaching his torso from his gonads with a forecful happy kick. :) Screw your courage to the kicking place, and you'll not fail.
You may also consider smoking less.
Tell him you got those legs by running through pools of jello.
Oh, and you should start calling him "sport".
Listen, boyfriend-person, whoever you think you are, make a suggestion like that again and it's your gonads that get the happy kick :-)
But my suggestion was very mild, I thought, and following it would certainly be beneficial to your health. At any rate, I should at least get a brownie point for being your personal Lady Macbeth. With a big nose.
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