I narrowly escaped relationship disaster yesterday at approximately 7:45 pm, Eastern Standard Time.
It all began at approximately 7:05 pm, Eastern Standard Time....
I could hear her legions marching in unison up the street, their stern, military cadence contradicted by the musical beauty of the Italian language. I knew she was coming....but I never expected this.
As Mussolini burst in through the door, tension filled the air. We exchanged pleasantries yet I remained guarded. One can never trust Italians let alone Italian dictators.
She took a seat beside me on the couch. The television went on. E!, Mtv, E!, Mtv, Oxygen, Paris Hilton, American Idol, Jessica Simpson, Ryan Seacrest, etc. My stomach tightened. I became nauseous. Vision blurred. Obviously a dual reaction to the images flashing on the screen and the empty noise simultaneously invading my ears, coupled with the uneasy anticipation of the conflict that swiftly approached.
"So, Yanks, Sox in a few minutes?" I offered cautiously.
"Are you kidding me? You're kidding right?" I was able to decipher through her Forli provincial accent.
"Um.....Yeah. It's the Yankees and the Red Sox. You can't expect me not to watch it!"
Weapons were drawn.
I can't really say what happened next. Not because I'm censoring myself, though no doubt Mussolini would prefer this to be the case, but because it was all a blur. A blur of blood and fury.
The next thing I remember, I woke with a start; "Where am I?" I thought.
I'd been ousted from my own apartment much like Mussolini from power in 1943, though not relegated to a life of isolation. I was amongst friends, actually. I was comfortable. T'was a short-lived comfort though, I'm afraid.
Red Sox: 7
New York Yankees: 3
1 comment:
The squirells tell me that in that situation the best thing to do is to start offering to do all sorts of nice things. Suddenly you're the best squirell in the world, and from there it's nothing but acorns.
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