I was reaching the end of a productive daygame session in Rome. Resting on the Spanish Steps, halfway through my cigarette, I spot an elegant brunette traverse the square. Even from a far away, I could see she was beautiful Italian local. She walked fast, determined to get somewhere.
I leapt up, ran down the stairs, and jumped over a pair of Chinese tourists to pursue the set, pushing the last bits of smoke out of my lungs. Right as she was about to enter what turned out to be her office, I intercept her by jumping directly in front - grinning ear-to-ear. My vibe was off the charts, I REALLY wanted this girl and it showed. She beamed. During the run-up the carbon-monoxide severely constrained the absorption of oxygen into my blood, making me gasp for air.
cough wheeze “Hold on,” I stammered, beckoning her to wait with my hand. “I just need a moment to catch my breath.”
“Who are you?!” she laughed, “dashing and just running down the stairs…”
The tone was set. It was one of the most authentic and spontaneous approaches to date. We immediately hit it off - this girl liked me. She was a lawyer that was hopping into the office, so I took her number, hoping to catch her later that night.
We texted back and forth for a bit, and indeed, I got her out on a date in a Roman cocktail bar. We soon met up again by the Spanish Steps. Now I had more time to take her in: she wore lavishly expensive clothes, diamond jewelry, and a pearl necklace. I took her to Chez Moi Rome where we were seated on a table across each other, sipping (what turned out to be painfully expensive) cocktails.
She was genuinely a fascinating girl: a viola championess, big-time lawyer, she exuded an air of utmost confidence and intelligence. Nevertheless, being approached in such a direct manner massively spiked her curiosity. “Italian men would never do such a thing!” she grinned… This girl exclusively mingled in the high society: she (or rather her father) was extremely rich.
After a quick bathroom break, I told her I needed another smoke. “I’ll have one of yours,” she said, following me outside. She wasn’t a smoker but “cheated every now and then”. I took it as a sign of qualification to break her rules to impress me. I examined her necklaces, and complimented her hair, twirling a strand in my fingers as we smoked outside under the yellow light of a lantern.
As time was drawing to 10 p.m., we agreed to have the second cocktail another time. Although I didn’t have enough time to fully progress through my usual physical and verbal escalation ladder, it felt super on. I decided to go for the kiss as we were walking back to the Spanish Steps.
Traversing the square, I lightly put my two fingers on her shoulder to make her stop. I positioned myself in front of her. We locked eyes.
“ExcUSZe Mih Sirr, WoUlD YoU LaiK Zu BuY ZhiS BallOoN?” Some Pakistani street vendor interjected. Destroying the moment with his collection of Chinese crap. “No, thanks,” I answered coldly, trying to keep my cool. I pulled the girl along with me towards the fountain, into the direction of her office.
Ten steps later I brought her to a halt again, rebuilding the moment. She looked at me intently. I could see the expectation clearly on her face. A geometric pattern of green laser dots covered our faces and bodies. Were we about to be taken out by an Italian counter-terrorist unit, sniping from the rooftops?
“LaiZeRr - GoOd pRiCE, GOoD PrICe fOr YoU,” another Indian uttered. I was struggling to keep my composure. And this guy didn’t take “no thank you” for an answer. The girl started explaining something to him in Italian, but I took her under my arm and lead her away. I shot the vendor an enraged look over my shoulder, freezing him in his tracks.
Scanning the area, and establishing that the coast was free of pests, I lead her right up to the fountain, facing the Spanish Steps that were still hosting a dozen tourists. Within moments we were oblivious to their existence.
“This whole encounter has been impossible!” she beamed. “Yes,” I added, “wouldn’t it be crazy if…”
I put one hand on her shoulder, and the other gently behind her neck, pulling her in towards me. Out kiss was passionate, and I heard the whole world, including the sound of the fountain, fade away, as she furiously licked my tongue.
Soon after, I was ascending the Spanish Steps on a cloud of fulfillment. Feeling victorious, having vanquished the vendor pests, and capturing my first Italian street kiss, surrounded by the stunning architecture of Rome.
I delighted in the irony of me catching a bus home in front of McDonald’s while she was being driven by her private driver.