Our Man in Europe/davedelacroix/Ragazzimento No. 22: THE STIFF!...
ZAZZI, old girl-pal, finally shows up at the HOTEL DAVE (€35 per nite/free coffee). OUR MAN-blog fans will know her already: Blonde, impetuous, beautiful, ORNERY, vivacious. An Adventuress who "lucked out!" and married Prince So-and-So down South, in LE MARCHE, an hour or two's drive outside of ROMA. A (she) fellow graduate, of course, of that NON-Ivy-league college: "Saint-I-DON'T-give a Frick!"... She's 32 going on 45 and always sports ULTRA red lipstick ("...Because, Dave? -It indicates, to my paramours, just what I'm selling!")
Characteristically, she DESCENDS on my humble abode, the HOTEL DAVE (€35 per nite/free coffee), makes herself QUITE at home, re-arranges the furniture, spreads "gaily" patterned sheets all over the chairs/sofa, screws up the remote for my big-screen-TV, polishes off my last bottle of Scotch-Irish Whisky, sits UP all nite yakking (We co-write new song: "My Listerine Girl"), and...
So, later? Sun comming up; I ask her: "ZAZZI! You married Prince So-and-So with - I heard - all due "pomp and circumstance"/papparazzi showed up, you moved into the CASTELLA (large fortified house), became the MADRE of the Prince/Count/whatever? -his bambinos from previous deceased wife, LIVE a LIFE OF LUXURY and, infact, REIGN - like a QUEEN - over that region of Italy....(I was running outta breath!) -WHY, why, oh why...are you now here at the HOTEL DAVE (€35 per nite/free coffee); tell me why?"
....Rummaging around like a starved-deranged-mad Gypsy-Rose-Lee (from Alabama), she ransacks my beuareau, desk drawers, then finally, under the kitchen sink/cabinet - where I STASH my expensive Vino - she "liberates" a BAROLO (€16.99), pops the cork and, at length, replies to my enquiry:
(she says:) "Dave? Things were MOLTO-COOL. Sandro (the count/Prince/whatever?), as you know, was "quite mature"... Last Saturday night, after a hard days (night) partying, we were having RABID SEX, "I" was "ON TOP", and - I guess? - in the "middle" of it, he expired. MORTE! Heart attack, I guess. Dead as a door-nail. NO PULSE! -Dave? I was fucking a DEAD MAN!!!...?"
"So WHAT," I asked, "did you DO? Did you call for an Ambulence, check your E-mail, wonder what was on Cable TV; WHAT!?"
"Dave?" -she answered; "I was on the CREST OF A WAVE!"
"And?"
"He was STILL STIFF so I kept on going!...."
Zazzi....:)
c 2013/davedelacroix/lord borgo/friend od ZAZZI/piacenza/Italy...
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