Short Story / The Italian
If there are more women than men in the world, how can it be that I am single. Who is having my share. I lie awake at night imagining some lucky little Italian strutting around Venice with a wash of twenty beautiful girls lying in his wake. I hate this man. Whether he exists or not.
I am not some Italian hater. For heaven’s sake, I am Pavorotti’s biggest fan. It is just the very idea that rubs me the wrong way, the idea that while I have nobody to care for, somebody is spoiled for choice.
It was with this firmly in mind that I left for work on a decidedly grim November morning. I was irritable.
I moved out onto the street like a forty year old prize fighter, punch drunk in the 12th, catching my coat in the door and buffeting my briefcase off some equally self-motivated passers-by. I reached the corner of Winterham Close and waited for the bus, which was already a half hour late. I thought. I waited. And Waited. And just to pass the time I waited a bit more until I finally summised that the bastard bus must have been on time. The public services in this country are going to the dogs I thought as I began a slow march to the office.
I had been walking for over six yards when I trod in what could only be described as Shit. Dog shit, deposited there by a dog. I bemoaned my luck until being confronted by a handsomely dressed young lady with the most impressive cleavage that I had seen in many a while, who came up to me and began to apologise for the conduct of her dog.
Interesting.
“I am so sorry, I feel so absolutely terrible, for that to happen to a man as good looking as you… I am mortified… I’d do anything to make it up to you… ANYTHING!‿
Hello… alarm bells ringing here, ANYTHING she said, it’d be rude to ignore an invitation like that, so I said what any red-blooded male would say.
“Well, you could drive me to my office, I seem to have missed the bus.‿
She did as I asked, and trotted home with a surprisingly irritated expression on her face, and fetched her car. I didn’t care though, because I had beaten the system. Once at my office I didn’t waste words as I was already late for first pick at the biscuit tray.
“Cheer Chief!‿ I said getting out of the car without a backward glance and mounting the steps up to the revolving door.
The stuffy heat in the office block was like a veil drawn over the atmosphere, clinging to me like the smell of cigarette smoke.
I picked up a free paper and began to investigate the business section when I was bumped into by Mary from the 4th floor. She was a pretty girl, but evidently clumsy. She had spilled coffee all down her chest, and what’s more, had the audacity to ask if I might want to help clean it off. I thrust a semi-clean hanky in her direction and went on my way… silly girl made me lose my page.
The day marched on in a steady monotonous step trudging ever so slightly closer to my bedtime. Nothing different to usual. I had to warn my secretary Tracy about the length of her skirt as some men might see it as an invitation. At this she sighed heavily as she did everyday. And my boss Sue, asked me if I wanted a lift home, which I accepted as always.
When the time came to leave, I told Sue that I would meet her at the car because I didn’t want to hang around waiting for her while she settled-up.
On her way to meet me at the car she swung her hips from side to side. They were so regular that they reminded me of the tides. I remember once enquiring if they were effected by the Moon’s gravity.
As usual nothing was said or done on the way home, and, as she pulled up outside my house to drop me off, I thanked her briefly for the ride and said that I would see her tomorrow. It was dark now and the nights were drawing in at 6pm, the cold lingered in the air, stalking me to the front door. It was just the kind of night that required somebody to sleep next to or take a bath with. Oh well.
I plodded straight into the living room and lay on a freezing cold, lifeless sofa, flicking on the T.V I thought to myself ‘Oh good, Perry Mason’.
I realised how alone I was, and how much the world was against me…
And above all how much I hated that fucking Italian.
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Well he seems to be having some bad luck in his life. I really enjoyed when the man was cursing the bus for being on time.
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Yes, the Italian. This was a funny story that shows how short sighted we can be in our own lives.
You do wonderful descriptions…punch-drunk prize fighter..wonderful.
Some of your sentences gave me pause though.. It is just the very idea that rubs me the wrong way, the idea that while I have nobody to care for, somebody is spoiled for choice. I think spliting this sentence out may help. The somebody is spoiled for choice also seems to be missing a word. Try “It is just the very idea that rubs me the wrong way. The idea that while I have nobody to care for, somebody else is spolied for choice”
I think that flows much better. You had a couple of these sentence in this piece and they were the only real problems that I had with it. You also may want to slow the action down in the piece. After the woman and the dog poo, you seem rushed..hurrying toward your ending. Draw it out, give me more meat in the story, and it will be an even more satisfying story. You can make his meeting with the women really stand out instead of seeming like an add on.
Great writing, loved this piece.
Lou G.
Okay, very clever. And humerous. A cheeky little story with a bit of cynicism thrown in for good measure. Good for you. I enjoyed your work imensely. It’s hard to make a point these days, what with subtlethy on the lamb.
I do worry though, that you might have gone a bit overboard in revealing your hand. This chap ignoring the buxom babe with the spilled coffee, very nearly screamed out your point, and this before you’d given your other examples of why he’s been so alone.
Perhaps a little more nuance?
As for the technical portion of your story. First rate, of course. Your sentence structure and word choices are all flawless. Everything is smooth and flows nicely.
All in all, it’s been a pleasure reading your work.
I really enjoyed this. I laughed out loud. The imagery was right on. I could “see” everything as I read it. Sometimes though the sentence structure threw me off. For instance…“Well, you could drive me to my office, I seem to have missed the bus.â€?
She did as I asked, and trotted home with a surprisingly irritated expression on her face,...........just the way it’s worded I thought she was in the process of driving him to work but alas only going to get her car.
Other than that, your writing was fun and fresh.
Laugh out loud funny! Some much a part of society, head down, and hating Italian!
You have such a gift for humor. My only thought for improvement is to post these gems quicker.
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