That Shit Builds Character

December 21, 2007 – 11:28 pm

The beautiful people used to hang out in Taormina, Sicily.

I was enjoying my linguine pescatore at Nino’s, alfresco.

A paunchy middle-aged Englishman looked at me dubiously when I ordered in Italian.

I could see what he was thinking– he ordered in English.

He couldn’t seem to forgive me for it, and kept glancing my way like it really bugged him.

I thought, “What an ass,” and ignored the red-faced idiot.

He kept casting malevolent glances my way, though, so I wondered what it was with the guy.

I had noticed his daughter, how could I not.

She was a raven-haired beauty with blue eyes and porcelain skin– but far too young.

It was only when I realized that she had strategically aligned her body just so, with her legs pointed my way that I understood.

The little tart was teasing me.

I called Nino (he likes to talk to the customers) and said a few words in Italiano, with one eye on John Bull the whole time.

I sent the ruddy Englishman and his daughter two glasses of limoncello as an after dinner digestivo.

When Nino brought the chilled glasses to their table, with my compliments, I could see the old bastard was fuming.

I thought I might as well enjoy the moment, so I raised my glass and toasted them with a cheery “Salute!”, my eye catching hers and holding it.

The little siren had more spirit than I would have thought.

When the old dog wrinkled his nose and frowned, she gave his leg a well-aimed kick, hard enough to make him wince.

She raised her glass, and flashed me a dazzling smile with a hearty, “Cheers, darling.”

It was only then I noticed her wedding ring– a big fat rock.

All was clear, but I had no pity on the old fool.

I suppose it was cruel– but I couldn’t resist.

I told him that his granddaughter was very beautiful, and I was sure she would make some man very happy one day.

The best part was when I winked.