Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Broken Capillary Nose

(un) adventures weekend

Last Thursday, armed with the book "The Grammar of God" by Benni, pop-corn in industrial quantities and dozens of DVDs to watch, I was anticipating the start of a weekend dedicated to doing nothing more than absolute when, alas, came the call from the woman who for years had earned the honors of "slave aunt and hell."

Aunt: Hello, disorder?
Enlil (munching popcorn): Yes, I was just immersing myself in a fiery embrace with the love of my life, has more than 50 years and his name is Stefano, Stefano Benni.
Zia: I'm glad that you have a satisfying sex life and intriguing. You have to do this weekend?
Enlil: I think so, Stephen is very jealous you know, he does not like not having to hand at all times.
Zia: So he takes, I need that tomorrow morning you come to Parma to help me out at the fair. Call me when you arrive, hello.
Enlil: But I actually ...
Phone: Tu Tu Tu
Enlil: Damn!

And so Friday morning, with Benni's book in stock, took the train with the prospect of four days of hard work hardly alleviated by the knowledge that that night I would eat pounds and pounds of prosciutto di parma and tortelli all'erbetta.

Fair of Parma itself I like: lots of beautiful things to see and to buy, mostly just to watch as the perennial state of anorexia that affects my wallet. The problem is not the fair, as people who wander from it or them to customers!

They move casually, as if their choices are not my destiny depended. Throw a glance, seem to be interested. I watch their every move avidly but not resolved. Are to stop, I hear they are going to do it ... when he finally snaps suddenly pull straight destroying all my hopes. Repeat for all
sixties and have an hour of my personal hell.

Then some types of Them (I'm always talking about the customers) are recognized at first glance. A little 'how to know right away you venture in which circle of hell.

There are stingy , guys looking for a gift for Fidan, always with his eyes fixed on something less expensive and more distasteful.

Then there are the patriarchal couples where the wife / girlfriend is still with his head that extends in steps to the counter, a bit 'as that of a pigeon. E 'thrilled by the desire to buy something, as if her happiness depended on it, and her husband / boy, insensitive bastard through and through, pull straight, all without so much of the merchandise take a look and forcing the unfortunate and unhappy wife / girl to follow him with his head bowed. The women

ingioliellate then are among the worst. When you see them you wonder how they manage to walk without hanging on one side with all the tangle of metal that have him. They stop and begin to try everything, absolutely everything, forcing the poor merchant (in this case me) to govern the mirror, smile, put in place the discarded goods, prices come up and comment on prices about how the ribs that color the complexion, all together.
Of course they will pass without buying anything, because you suddenly remember that "in that color so many have already" or that "their female friends are waiting at the bar, but then come back for sure." Ovviemente then there will no longer pass in front of even by accident.

But those who just can not stand are the good Samaritan , those who look at you from top to bottom, as if the mere fact that for ten minutes, you are obliged to serve in the hope they buy something you do a poor ; unfortunate lower-level to be pitied.
Here's what happened to me Friday afternoon, I swear that if I'd been too busy to look at all sides of my polo's would have laughed in your face.

Enlil (smiling): Hi, need help?
Donna-fat: I would try this series.
Enlil: Sure, go ahead.
Donna-fat ...
Enlil: ...
Donna-fat ...
Enlil: Um ... wants to help her to wear it?
Women Fat: Oh ... I would be really helpful if you do me this kindness.
Enlil: I find that the very gifts, a great color. Women
fat: Do not make me rich neck?
Enlil: Absolutely! In fact, I think the very enhances the cleavage. Women
fat: Really? Indeed ah hit me for this! I must say that is really good.
Enlil: Divinely. Not to mention the shine that gives the face! Women
fat: She is really a good girl, excellent manners. A pity that did not have the best opportunities in life.
Enlil: Excuse me? Women
fat: Leaving always around to fairs to sell, it needed to maintain the family business ... I remove a curiosity, she and the people doing his job living in a camper?
Enlil: ... Women
fat: It has had the opportunity to do more? To win a title? I see a little 'worn out, eat regularly? Has some decent clothes?
Enlil: Actually what I'm wearing is a pole of Tommy. Women
fat: And I must say it is a very good imitation, my dear, it looks almost real ...
Enlil: ...

30 minutes after

Zia: How much did you pay for the necklace to the lady before?
Enlil: 360 €.
Zia: But it cost only 200 ...
Enlil: The other 160 I'll take them to buy me another pole.


The following day, after the closing time for the show, I decided to sneak into a bar with a book of my secret lover (so secret that even he does not know) Stefano Benni. I got a cappuccino, I chose the most comfortable desk and opened the book.
suddenly came a group of skinheads from the face of very bad.

skinheads no.1: Do me a coffee, as black as can be. Do you understand? I want it very dark!
skinheads num.2: So in that red motherfucker I made him show you. I played them to him so much that he could not even get up off the ground I say!
skinheads num.3: Appenna I heard others say they are coming to have a feast.
num.2 skinheads: Then, when begging for mercy, I spit on him! Writhing like an eel!

suddenly decided that sit in plain view sitting reading a book by an author known to be left in a bar full of skinheads is not so brilliant idea.
quietly closed the book, keeping it well hidden torches cover slip on the table to hide under my coat, I got up and sfiondai out of the bar.

Item: Miss! Hey, lady!

Someone was calling me from the bar, surely one of those guys to make me skin! I knew that I would die young for political causes, but not so young!

I slipped in the first bus I found myself out of breath and there catapultai inside. Only when the doors were closed and the bus was gone I ventured to look towards the bar. That had shouted out that he was not a nazi-skins, was the owner of the bar. I had forgotten to pay the cappuccino.

I had become an outlaw, and most did not know where the hell was going to that bus.

At that moment I rang the phone. It was my mother.

Mom (very angry): What is this story that you see a man with more than fifty years?!
Enlil: I hate my life.