Posted on May 18, 2012 by Flan

“Let’s meet at the Plaza,” that’s what you say to your friend Miele on Sunday. You are not going there of course, you are going somewhere else, where the food is homemade and good, to a typical Roman trattoria, with no velvety wall paper on the walls. You think it’s witty and smart – to meet at the Plaza – one of your little diversions that make you feel like the main character of a seedy adventurous novel. Your friend Miele is cute and sexy, she doesn’t have to pretend like you, she really looks like the character of an erotic comic book. She gets off her bike and walks with you toward the restaurant. “So, what are you up to?” she asks. Nothing much really, but you decide to tell her about your latest fixation, a writer you fancy. The guy doesn’t even know your real name, although you’ve been out on a date. She doesn’t understand. “How can he not know your name?”. Continue Reading →