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April 14, 2014 / catherinebwrites


He stood at the counter sipping an espresso and casting his gaze around the cafe.    Lord but he was was handsome.   The type that could wear a paper bag and look good.   His clothes looked expensive, casual, classy, but maybe it was just how he wore them.  There’s people who always look smooth and others who always look rumpled.   He was smooooth.

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She’d seen him here every day since she’d arrived in Rome to study Italian.    His eyes strayed her way and he smiled.   She pretended not to notice and busied herself with her phone.

“Prego,” she heard, “you speak English?”

“I do.”

“I just wish  to tell…   I see you many times… your eyes are so beautiful.   Light eyes with dark hair… it is like miracle.”

She was flattered.   Italians were great for this kind of guff.   Irish men never paid extravagant compliments like that.  She couldn’t help smiling.

“May I sit?”


“Where you from?


“That is why the beautiful skin.   White like milk.”

“Oh go on outta that.” she laughed.

“No, no I have fall in love with your eyes and your skin.”

“Ah now…!”

“It is true!  I am in love!

“Don’t be an eejit, you don’t even know me!”

“But the heart knows” he said clutching his heart and looking deep into her eyes.  She felt her own heart skip a beat. “Please I  show you Roma.  I want you  be  my Julietta and I make love like your Romeo.”

“You’re trying to manipulate me.” she said.

“What you mean… I don’t understand?”

“I’m not as green as I’m cabbage looking.  You say this to all the ladies… I saw you last week with those Swedish girls!”

He had the grace to admit it.  He took another sip of his espresso and looked up with a puzzled expression.

“Please, can you explain me what you say about green cabbage? “

She explained.   He laughed.    And several weeks later, when her Italian improved, they became quite good friends.

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