A Tequila boom night

Al. has disappeared. By that I mean I was lounging on the sofa trying to find a good position for my Instagram story, when he calls telling me he is on his way to Parma for God knows what reason. “I am on the highway, I’ll call you as soon as I can”. He probably found a lot of traffic of a hot lady, because after a week he has not called “when a woman is left high and dry by a man she must have a tequila boom night” G. tells me. He’s a weird guy. Extremely intelligent but also incredibly bizarre- and fucking hot.

The call him ‘il Trucione’ in Roma Nord (north of Rome) because he is a bit uncouth but all ‘parioline’ (female residents of Parioli, the most affluent area of Rome) seem to fall for him. He doesn’t mind. Few of them even tried to get him hitched but he resisted by getting caught having sex with a noble woman. The liaison ended and she married a rich guy from a well to do family. I’m one the few (un)lucky ones to have met him fully clothed. He is the tv presenter of a show I’ve been invited to: “look, you don’t have to come all dressed up in a posh way” he tells me while getting a coffee from a vending machine. I tell him I always dress up like that and starts swearing ‘cause the machine took the money and never delivered the coffee. After that, we became good friends.

I go to his place for a tequila boom night. He lives on the third floor of a condo in via Cassia. Very impressive, Mr Trucione! He tells me to remove my shoes as soon as I step into his apartment. I obey. Without further ado, he picks up a bottle with two long, thin glasses and he fills them up with tequila and soda, then he slams the glass twice on the table and he passes it to me telling to drink it in one single shot. I obey. I feel an explosion in my mouth, a burning sensation on my gums. “Now you have to try it with salt” he says, smiling, while I reach for some water. He picks up a small plate with salt and a few slices of lime. He licks the hollow of his hand, pours some salt on it and makes me lick it; then he makes me drink some more. I am completely lost; he picks up a slice of lime and shoves it in my mouth. He grabs my hand and tells me he needs physical contact. I hug him, thinking about that assohole, A., driving on the highway…

(to be continued)