Unimpressed: Bridge Rendevous

“When I stopped for a moment, he swooped over like an uninvited pigeon, and said in an Italian dripping with old oil and stale, half-price men’s cologne…”       

What a treat I had yesterday afternoon as I took the dog for a walk. After about ten wintery minutes of walking towards the bridges near the house, I noticed a smartly dressed man walking rather close a few paces behind me. When I stopped for a moment, he swooped over like an uninvited pigeon, and said in an Italian dripping with old oil and stale, half-price men’s cologne: “Do you know by any chance where Largo Argentina is please?”

“Oh…” I said dryly and pointed bluntly in the correct direction, poker-faced and un-amused (practised expression.) He knew exactly where it was.

“Sorry-” he stopped me with a floppy hand: his pointy nose and parrot face, grinning stupidly: “I only wanted to speak to you.”

CUE A ROLLING THE EYES MOMENT.

 “Sorry-” he stopped me with a floppy hand: his pointy nose and parrot face, grinning stupidly: “I only wanted to speak to you.”

Ladies! If you have two breasts and a pair of eyes that blink: drifting, bored men will find cunning ways of intervening into your life, albeit in the most harmless, but nevertheless, intrusive ways.

He then asked where I live? Poking into my lovely walk, crossing his arms across his creased, baggy suit, that his mother had probably laid out on his bed a few hours earlier. Who was I? How long was I staying? (In a way that suggested, I bet you don’t know where I am going with this! What a score!)

After making several, unimaginative, but vaguely realistic excuses to leave, he questioned:

“Quando posso rivederti? When can I see you again?”

I wasn’t sure, in which millisecond of the conversation, I’d remotely hinted that I positively couldn’t go on, if I didn’t see him again – I then noticed, as the gnarled Gollum did once Frodo crossed his path, that he was wearing a ring. A wedding ring. God, he must have thought I was born yesterday. Or maybe he’d borrowed it from a dressing table at home and forgot to take it off, and his mother was frantically looking for it?

“He then asked where I live? Poking into my lovely walk, crossing his arms across his creased, baggy suit that his mother had probably laid out on his bed a few hours earlier.”

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