My first suitor

bansheeI was turning 15 on September. I had already skipped adolescence, sick and tired of so much growing pain.

He turned 24 on April and was my literature teacher at secondary school. Needless to say, I thought he was as old as Methuselah. But he was completely different from the herd.

I loved his freckled face and blond reddish hair. He had that irresistible bohemian intellectual look. Nobody but him could cope with my mental gluttony and eagerness to learn, read and write.

We used to talk about everything during school recess, while the boys played football in the schoolyard and the girls gathered to chat about boys.

We started dating secretly on Friday afternoons, after the class was over.
On our first rendezvous he invited me to see “My Fair Lady” at a local movie theatre. On our second, he gave me “Poms Penyeach” by James Joyce, and wrote this dedication on the first page:

“To a girl who will be a wonderful woman in just a few years”

I smiled at him, not knowing what to say.

– It will be unbelievably nice to be with you when you become an adult. –he said-

He walked me to the bus stop and sat on a bench beside me, as we waited for my bus to come.

bambas– You’ll probably hate me for saying this, but if you were just four years older, we would have no choice but to be lovers. –he said, devouring me with his eyes-. I’m now too troubled by our 9-year age difference.

He gave me a hesitant smile and kissed me soft and long on the lips. Happily stunned and almost in shock by his words, I rushed off without even saying goodbye and got on the bus.

My mind floated blissfully through space. My heart was beating like a machine gun. I sat on the side of the bus, looked at him through the window and smiled.

He stood there until the bus moved. His eyes were beaming at me.

How I wished I had been a grownup that day.

Make love, not war

ImageMe and Sis2 –a good friend of mine- were supposed to meet for brunch on Sunday morning, but she called me to cancel the appointment, due to a splitting headache.

– You should see the doctor, dearie. You have these headaches every now and then –I recommended-
– Naaaah, we never go to the doctor at home –she said, laughing-
– Never? –I asked, rather surprised-
– Yeah, we’re a bunch of hillbillies. We get well with home-made remedies. But … I remember just once, we had to take my bro to hospital …

It happened in one of the suburbs of a remote city in a mysterious country. And the story goes like this:

Once upon a time there was a nice house where a nice family lived: Mom, Dad, Bro, Sis1 and Sis2.

Bro had just received a pellet gun from Mom and Dad. It was their birthday present. As Bro grabbed the gun to clean it, the gun fired accidentally, shooting himself in the finger.

Mom was in the kitchen, cooking dinner. Dad was in the garage, DIYng, doing that himself, but not doing it at all. Sis1 was on the phone, talking to her boyfriend. Sis2 –my friend- was playing with Barbie.

Finger1Everybody was alarmed at the sound of Bro’s shrieks. The guy was in pain, running around like a headless chicken, screaming, aching from the hanging, bleeding, clapped out finger. All the family rushed to see what was happening. Dad shouted. Mom fainted. Sis1 ran away –that finger was setting her teeth on edge-. Sis2 –the cleverest member of the family- took Dad’s key to the car and shouted: “Off we go!!!”

And off they went. The car stopped at the hospital Emergency Ward’s door. Bro yelled, showing his disgusting finger to anyone he came across. Mom and Dad were in a panic. Sis1 looked the other way. Sis2 told the nurse what had happened.

Bro was taken to a room where a doctor examined his damaged finger. Fortunately, he didn’t lose it: After he got an x-ray and it was confirmed that nothing was broken, a nurse disinfected and wrapped a bandage around it. They gave him a painkiller to make him stop screaming. He was sent home. Phew! Thank gawd, everything was ok.

So the five of them went back to the car. Mom took her place. Sis1, Sis2 and Bro sat on the back seats. Eager to have his family safe and sound back home, Dad checked the car doors, but he didn’t notice that Bro was leaning on his hand -the one with the hurting finger- precisely on the edge of the car back door.

i_draw_on_my_fingers_during_class__5_by_josh80980-d6rdm0yHe slammed the car door almost chopping not only Bro’s finger, but his whole hand off. The shouts could be heard for miles around

Bro was taken back to hospital; the nurse at the reception desk was quite amazed to see him back.

– Second time you hurt your finger this morning??? –she asked-
– Oooooooouuuuuuch!!!!! –was all Bro could say-

Mom and Dad had a fit of hysterichs and needed to be assisted right there. Sis1 looked the other way with a scornful look. Sis2 was so nervous that her legs started shaking.

gun girl_buenoBack home, Bro decided he had to destroy the pellet gun and smashed it, “just like young Pete Townsend would have done with his guitar after a concert” -said Dad, always stuck in the sixties-. The pieces of the broken gun were tossed in the trash.

“A wise decision. He never asked for firearms again” –said to me Sis2-.

This is how I was told the story. It’s up to you to either laugh or cry, but in any case it’s excellent news to know that an innocent soul was saved from the National Rifle Association. It happened in the US, a looong time ago.

No need to go hippy, guys, but MAKE LOVE, not war.

Goodnight to you, wherever you are.

A sexy Christmas tale

secretary 1Before I retired I used to work as a secretary at a big corporation. Many years ago, some days before Christmas I got this strange message from a workmate:

“In case of flight delays … this is what the South Sandwichian Airlines have arranged to entertain the passengers”.

The attachment included several pictures of hot stewardesses. In each slide they were wearing less clothes. In the last one they appeared completely naked. I knew the sender, but to be honest, this was not the sort of e-mail I would expect from him. Anyway, I’m not easily scared. It made me laugh.

I had a look at the e-mail addressees, and I could read “ALL” –meaning “All the staff”-. Obviously the email was meant to be sent only to a small group of friends, but the guy hit the wrong key by mistake and sent a massive email that was received by all the company staff, including the bigwigs. I could figure what a terrible time he should be having. And everybody around thinking he was a creep.

stewardess 3Some weeks before I had spoken to the CTO about the danger of those massive emails, and I suggested him to set up a display message to be shown before sending them, asking something like “Are you sure you want to send this email to –whatever the number of addressees is-?” in order to avoid tremendous errors like the one that happened this morning. He said to me “Hm, yes, I’ll think of it”. Mañana, of course. That horrible national habit of ours.

So the e-mail sender phoned me and asked if the GM had got his message. He was in a panic and freaking out.

– Yes, I’m afraid he got it but he’s not in the office yet. –was my answer.
– Hm. I wonder if you would be so nice as to delete it. –he said.
 – Well, I know you are in a horrendously awkward situation now, but I can’t do that. It’s ilegal. If I did, he would soon find out. Someone would tell him about your email and that would be a lot worse than deleting it.

I felt terrible, but I couldn’t do what he was asking me to.

office pin up– Now listen –I said to him-. I know you’re having a rotten time now, but it will pass. If I were you, I would report immediately to your boss before he finds out through a third person. So let me do this: as soon as the GM gets in, before he checks his emails, I’ll explain to him what happened. I’m sure he will understand. You hit the wrong key, that’s all. It could have happened to anybody. We all send silly attachments to our friends. But I’m sorry, I can’t delete the message.”

The guy was disapointed, but I could feel he was somehow relieved. Ten minutes later, the GM got in.

– Good morning. –he said-
– Good morning, ehm … there’s a small issue I’d like to tell you about before you start working. Nothing important to be bothered, but I think you should know. -I said-
– What is it? –he asked-
air hostess strip – One employee has just sent to all the staff an email including a silly attachment by mistake. He hit the wrong key in error, and sent a massive e-mail.
 – What is the attachment about?
 – Ehm … stripping stewardesses. –I smiled-

He checked it and saw the naked girls with only the airline company bonnet on in his monitor.

– What a fucking idiot. –he whispered, rolling his eyes.
 – It was completely unintended. -I said in his defence-
 – I don’t doubt it, but he should have done it from his personal e-mail. Get me his Manager on the phone. Now.

I called him on the spot. To be honest, I was really worried but nothing really serious happened.

xmas pin upAfter the in-house mini-scandal and jokes, massive e-mails were definitely restricted to a very small staff group, and the CTO had his people working on that reminder message to avoid spamming the whole corporation with wrong emails. It’ was a happy ending after all.

I sincerely hope this never happens to you. Have a very Merry Christmas and please be careful with the keys you hit before sending your Season’s greetings, wherever you are.

The magic flip flops

flipflopsMy friend J. has a serious problem with a very specific type of shoes: flip flops with soft plastic spikes in the inside, the kind some people use over here to go swimming.

J’s flip flops are great, but the thing is that when he wears them and walks, he gets powerful hard-ons from the massage on the sole of the foot. For him it’s like sexy feet rubbing. He found out last summer, when his friends gave them to him in July, as a birthday present.

The first day he wore them, he caused sensation at the beach. He was so embarrassed that he had to dive into the water, where he cooled off some minutes later. Same thing happened to him the second day. At first he didn’t relate his organic reactions to the flip flops. He was already enjoying happy and satisfactory sex in his life, yet naively asked himself if he had suddenly become a sex wonder.

erectorsetmanual1954eo9The third day, he realised what the reason for his sudden chubbies was. Concerned by the possibility of becoming the first flip flop addiction case in history, he decided to give them away.

His youngest brother is the current owner. Happy as can be, he doesn’t give a damn about addictions and always puts them on before a night of sex.

J. now regrets having got rid of the magic flip-flops, but … finders keepers, losers weepers: his brother wouldn’t give them back to him. Not for all the tea in China.

So darlings…  come back when I wake up from my beauty sleep in the sun and tell me something nice.

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My lovely Fiat Cinquecento

birthday 1When I turned 18 I told my parents that I wanted to get my driving license and my own car. I was a good daughter and expected they would say ‘Yes’ on the spot and pay for everything. But mom and dad were not too keen on a system of privileges for their children. Quite the contrary. I was born into an average suburban family that worked hard and saved money to invest only in basic needs: food, water, clothing, shelter, sanitation, education, and healthcare. They never spent a penny to indulge my every whim. So if my brothers or me ever wanted something, we had to earn it. Therefore, I had to start working immediately. So happy birthday to me, right?

During six months I cleaned the windows of the house on Saturdays and washed my dad’s car on Sundays. Some weekends I babysat and helped my neighbors’ kids do their homework. My brothers took turns driving me to college or letting me drive to practice. When I saved enough money, I went to driving school and passed my driving test with flying colors.

CINQUECENTO_7My first car was a green Fiat Cinquecento. It had been my uncle’s, then my aunt’s car. I got it…when it was valued around 500 € (=415 STG=680USD). My parents covered the car cost and insurance. I paid for gas.

Safety, reliability, performance, spaciousness, versatility or fuel efficiency were irrelevant. My new car was a 4-speed manual with bald tyres and had missed the back bumper. But I just cared about the cup holders and easy-to-empty ashtrays. Appearance.

– Have you seen how nicely the doors open and close, dad? Not a squeak to be heard!

It was a “great learning experience” for a college kid like me.

One of the biggest moments in anyone’s life is their very first car. No feeling is better than knowing it’s all yours, especially if you bought it all on your own without any help from mom and dad. I loved that unbelievable feeling of independence that car gave me. I could go anywhere I wanted whenever I wanted.

Sadly, six months later my lovely Fiat Cinquecento and I smashed into a tree trunk.

So darlings, tell me: Do you remember your first car? Do you keep a good memory of it? What happened there? A first kiss? Anyone?

woman driver

THOSE SILLY MOMENTS OF OUR DAILY LIFE…

The human body has a few unneeded parts that have degenerated to the point that they don’t serve the function they used to. The stupidity gland is on top of the list. We don’t really need a yellow little bag filled with a thick yellowish stupidizing fluid that leaks into our brain when we act stupid, do we?

kissWhen I was 18 I met a guy at the spring campus party and we fell in love at first sight. That weekend my parents were off and my brothers were camping with friends. Given the situation, I had this brilliant idea: asking my crush to come to my house for a private party.

He didn’t hesitate a second and rushed to my place and as soon as he arrived, we hopped onto the couch, infected with torrid passion.

vintage-police-department-2560x1600All of a sudden we heard that someone was trying to unbolt the front door. I jumped on the floor in a panic. I didn’t expect anyone. We rushed to the hall, both naked. The door was half-opened. Someone was pushing it and trying to spring the lock. My stupidity gland started working at full speed and I shouted in terror: “Thieves!!!”

I phoned the police. “Help, please help me, two burglars are breaking into my house!!!”. The operator asked for the address and two minutes later the cops stopped by the door. Outside the house I could hear the voices of two guys rushing downstairs. Strangely familiar voices.

chickenStill naked, I ran to the balcony, waved my arms theatrically and shouted “Thieves! They’re going downstairs, catch them!!!” Big Crush was utterly embarrassed at my histrionic performance and got dressed discreetly.

Still waving at the policemen, the thieves happened to be my two brothers that had returned unexpectedly from their short camping trip. They looked up in total amazement. My star appearance at the balcony had left them speechless. “Get dressed, silly!!!”-they shouted- A few people gathered in the street to watch the scene. Some passersby applauded. I was so ashamed I could have died on the spot.

I covered my body with a towel, used my best convincing skills to explain the cops that it had been an unfortunate misunderstanding caused by irrational panic and persuaded my bros that I was having a shower when Big Crush unexpectedly called in to say hello and oops! the towel fell on the floor. You know the rest.

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Looby, in South Sandwich we also have loose sexy hats.

In the meantime, Big Crush had silently cleared off. I neither saw him nor heard from him again. What a lousy chicken!

So tell me darlings, has your stupidity gland ever worked as hard as mine? Have you ever lived a “most embarrassing moment”?Let me pour you a glass of Moonshine, make yourself at home and confess. I’m all ears.

QUID PRO QUO

037_carmen_dell_orefice_theredlistMy third husband, the late Mr Yaya, adored borsalino hats. He said I looked like a gangster lady and he found it very sexy. I was young, very much in love and eager to please him, so I immediately rushed to this department store to buy myself one.

There were hundreds of them in all colours, stored on shelves but I chose a beautiful black one made of fine fur felt. I tried it and I felt like a queen.

I looked both sides looking for a shop assistant to pay for the hat, but there were none around. I waited ten minutes beside the cash register, just in case the store clerk was having a statutory tea break. I didn’t want to interrupt that private moment.

TEATIME2But nobody would show up. My legs started hurting after 20 minutes standing. A salesperson happened to pass by just then.

–          Good morning, I’d like to buy this hat –I said-

–          Sorry, this is not my department –was the answer I got-.

THIEFI had had enough waiting. I put the hat on, walked bound and determined to the exit and walked back home feeling very happy. And this is how I became a thief for the first time in my life.

So kids… now that we’re getting to know each other, I’d like to ask you one question to know a bit more about you. May I? Yes, of course.

Have you ever stolen anything? You know what I mean, not a pen from work.

And if so… what happened afterwards? Did you feel good or bad?

I’m all ears…

FIRMA YAYA