Right after Albert had finished smoking, we got in the car and went to the mall. When we got there, the first thing to do was to buy him a cigarettes pack and the coffee I promised, that way I could do my shopping peacefully. We entered Berska to get that jacket and afterwards we stopped at KFC to eat, but we had a little surprise...
A: Dude, isn’t that Alice?
E:Don’t know, I can’t see her very well...
A:It’s her allright, but who’s that girl next to her?
E:Hmmm...
It was a redhead that looked like a warrior and a mistress at the same time, a woman without compunction that would do anything to protect her reputation, and also a hurt and taunted woman, because her face looks like that of a whore but with the eyes of an infant that lost his toy in the first day of kindergarden.
A:Dude!...Dude, are you dreaming? Heloo, good morning beautiful, come on Eric, wake up!
E:What? I wasn’t paying attention to you.
A:You look like you’ve seen a ghost.
A:Is it mecause of that girl next to Alice? (says Albert trying not to laugh out loud)
E:Just shut up and eat.
A:Ha! You like her, don’t you?
E:Mhm...
A:Let’s talk to her!
E:What? No way! Let’s go home!
A:Ups...you scared Eric?
E:No, just cut it out!
A:Well...if you won’t, than I will.
E:Do what you want...I’ll be in the car.
I get up, go to the car and wait for Albert. While I waited, I led up a cigar and tought about something my dad said once:
The ideal woman has no body, face, voice or ideas. She herself is an ideea, a desire, a motive, a mischief. Yours, mine, everyones. She’s a blended mix of signs, simbols, colours, fabrics, sensations and parfume. The woman is the abrupt sound of twelve-sized heels that press hard against the sidewalk, the marble and nerves, she’s the precisely applied red lipstick that’s more accurate than an architect’s drawing, is the smell that confuses your nose and attention, that defies time and space and carries you back and forth without financial obligations, only emotional. She’s poison. Her malice can kill. Kill deams. Hearts. Minds. It kills hope, chances, feelings. It follows its prey, crawling and blending in the backround. It catches it and than with a precise strike, its seized. It wraps around its neck and slowly chokes it while affectionately looking its eyes. The woman is jazz music, smoke and red wine. No matter how hard you would try to forget her, you won’t be able to. It’s like a live poison, that lives there inside you, always, coming out from time to time, just to remind you of its existence. You’ll survive, they all do. It’s not lethal, it’ll just be there as long as you live, and if there is such a thing as an afterlife, than you’ll find it there. There are few that found a cure. And that cure can’t be anything else other than another poison, at least just as strong. Stange, vengefull, painfully attractive, they will love you until you choke, you become a master, a slave, a lover, a husband, a father, it changes your paradigms, your moral values, they mask you, love you, make you strong, they let you in their beds, gently touching you to pleasure, they’ll kiss you to submission and let you think you chose them, when in fact they chose you. They can do all that, and turn you into their hole universe...You will be all this, and at some point, if they will, you’ll become nothing. The simple speck of dust that clings to the high twelve-sized heel.
In the meantime, Albert showed up, after about twenty minutes, with a big smile on his face...
E:What is it? Did you win the lottery?
A:Even better dude!
E:What do you mean?
A:I found out the redhead’s name and managed to persuade Alice to give me her number.
E:What’s her name?
A:Arianna.
E:Arianna? Ad how is that supposed to help me?
A:Don’t rush to conclusions...she’ll be at the Jar too tonight.
He instantly shut me up, didn’t knew what to say anymore, I was just stunned.
