tony, riccardo, pisa and international flirting
There are certain moves a woman can do anywhere in the world and the man will think she is coming onto him. One such move is lightly touching the man's arm and smiling. Here is how the story unravelled.
I could tell I was starting to become sick and knew that whenever I sit in the front of a bus I feel much better. I love gazing out the big window and seeing everything the driver sees and how the world opens up and God bestows all his beauty and magic right in front of your eyes. I also love watching Tony drive. It is quite amazing, because a simple gesture like changing lanes requires so much skill! I would see him flick on one switch to indicate he wants to move, then flick another switch to begin the merge into the other lane, and another switch to complete the merge, and finally another switch once the merge is over ...or something along those lines. He kinda looked like a puppetter controlling his marrionette. I loved how he would let the natural breeze blow through the window. I never knew that these Italian drivers had to weave through traffic with such dramatic precision. There were moments when I thought we would collide into another car or unanimated object only to see Tony pause inches away from contacting that object and swerve safely into traffic again. If I ever wanted a break from the gorgeous scenery or I thought the tranquility would lull me into a peaceful slumber, I would watch Tony or Riccardo.
Riccardo was interesting as well, because I know some people thought he was lazy. I could see him checking and double checking his bright red clipboard and working. Sometimes he would be reading his Bernard Cornwell novel while other times he would be on his infamous phone that would either ring every half hour or he would be ringing someone. There were so many things to preoccupy me while I sat at the front, I completely forgot to be sick. I think most of the time the pain and illness is psychosomatic so if you simply forget it exists or become so absorbed with something else it feels a bit like a throbbing pain that comes in different rippling waves rather than one tidal wave after another.
I remember going to Pisa and it seemed that no matter how hard I tried to take a picture of how I saw the tower leaning, it always seemed straighter in the pictures. I would try to twirl the camera around and experiment with different angles when I was suddenly hit with sharp pains in my uterus. It was the same type of pain when the doctor's speculated I had cancer and it was so severe that I actually just collapsed on the ground temporarily, because I kept whimpering and wincing with pain. Despite the pain, I kept wanting to enjoy myself because I didn't want the stupid pain to destroy my time in a wonderful place. Needless to say most of my energy was spent on returning to our cute little train that takes us from the parking lot to Pisa.
Imagine the toy trains you use to play with as a child or perhaps a brother..and imagine the train is painted bright yellow with black stripes with a cd playing imitation Andrea Bocelli songs. I remember approaching the train when my tourquoise skirt began to slip off my hips. It started slipping after a few days in Italy, because I started loosing weight from all the sprinting around with water and backpacks. lol. I was wearing my Canadian Idol hat and I later noticed that Riccardo was the only one to pick up on the reason why I wore the hat (other than to get the hair out of my face.)
We boarded our tour bus and the pain began to ease away, but only gradually so there were moments when I could feel it shoot throughout my entire body. I took my seat behind Riccardo's one and after he gave a little spiel he sat down next to me. I knew that my seat had all the air conditioning and that he had to sit in that God forsaken seat surrounded completely by glass windows for six hours at a time so I asked if he wanted my seat. He looked hurt for a moment and then said, "What? You don't want me to sit with you?" That is when I did it. I rolled my head towards him and placed my hand lightly on his biceps and said, "no, I do want you to sit with me" and smiled. I could tell by that one moment pause and the smile that creeped upon his face that he thought I was coming onto him.
I knew that I am naturally affectionate. I use to have unique friendships with males where we would always hold hands, link arms, have candlelit dinners, stroll by the lakeside and out at night. I would often wrap my arms around people's waists and rub their shoulders as a way of saying I am fond of that person, but my friends and I got a lot of heat for being misleading and since my university years I have tried to be more cautious of how I interact with people. I find it more difficult to keep my guard up when I have had something to drink or when I am sick, so in this case I knew I was too sick to really censor my movements or words. I think this is when Riccardo and I began to think the other was interested in them, but really you just have two people who are quite alike who can end up misleading the other.
We began talking about our lives in brief detail. I told him I thought he had a difficult job, because he had to be ready for us at 7am yet some of these excursions would not end until 12am so it was a rather long day. He told me he had been doing it for years and so he was use to the schedule, but I sensed that he was getting burnt out and tired of it all. He asked me if I was a student and I said I was a teacher. We started talking about what kind of English I taught and revealled pieces of each other. It was not until later that I realized that we reminded each other of each other so in essence I reminded him of himself and he reminded me of myself. We never spoke about it, but I think we knew it. He would try to make me laugh by joking about Tony and since I was still in pain and every word took some great effort to disguise as being natural, Riccardo finally thought I was not as interested in talking to him and returned to his seat.
It was only later that I noticed Riccardo picked up on how I try to hide my pain. I will wear my hat so that others cannot really see the pain in my eyes. I will also look down if you are sitting close to me to make it that much harder to read me. I will also speak softly so that you almost have to lean in to hear me, because I don't have much energy to speak and I am trying to sound as pleasant as possible. I know he didn't let me get away with that trick in Flourence. ; ) I actually missed him when he returned to his seat, but was also glad that no one could really see me in my weakest moment and that I could relax and enjoy the view.
I could tell I was starting to become sick and knew that whenever I sit in the front of a bus I feel much better. I love gazing out the big window and seeing everything the driver sees and how the world opens up and God bestows all his beauty and magic right in front of your eyes. I also love watching Tony drive. It is quite amazing, because a simple gesture like changing lanes requires so much skill! I would see him flick on one switch to indicate he wants to move, then flick another switch to begin the merge into the other lane, and another switch to complete the merge, and finally another switch once the merge is over ...or something along those lines. He kinda looked like a puppetter controlling his marrionette. I loved how he would let the natural breeze blow through the window. I never knew that these Italian drivers had to weave through traffic with such dramatic precision. There were moments when I thought we would collide into another car or unanimated object only to see Tony pause inches away from contacting that object and swerve safely into traffic again. If I ever wanted a break from the gorgeous scenery or I thought the tranquility would lull me into a peaceful slumber, I would watch Tony or Riccardo.
Riccardo was interesting as well, because I know some people thought he was lazy. I could see him checking and double checking his bright red clipboard and working. Sometimes he would be reading his Bernard Cornwell novel while other times he would be on his infamous phone that would either ring every half hour or he would be ringing someone. There were so many things to preoccupy me while I sat at the front, I completely forgot to be sick. I think most of the time the pain and illness is psychosomatic so if you simply forget it exists or become so absorbed with something else it feels a bit like a throbbing pain that comes in different rippling waves rather than one tidal wave after another.
I remember going to Pisa and it seemed that no matter how hard I tried to take a picture of how I saw the tower leaning, it always seemed straighter in the pictures. I would try to twirl the camera around and experiment with different angles when I was suddenly hit with sharp pains in my uterus. It was the same type of pain when the doctor's speculated I had cancer and it was so severe that I actually just collapsed on the ground temporarily, because I kept whimpering and wincing with pain. Despite the pain, I kept wanting to enjoy myself because I didn't want the stupid pain to destroy my time in a wonderful place. Needless to say most of my energy was spent on returning to our cute little train that takes us from the parking lot to Pisa.
Imagine the toy trains you use to play with as a child or perhaps a brother..and imagine the train is painted bright yellow with black stripes with a cd playing imitation Andrea Bocelli songs. I remember approaching the train when my tourquoise skirt began to slip off my hips. It started slipping after a few days in Italy, because I started loosing weight from all the sprinting around with water and backpacks. lol. I was wearing my Canadian Idol hat and I later noticed that Riccardo was the only one to pick up on the reason why I wore the hat (other than to get the hair out of my face.)
We boarded our tour bus and the pain began to ease away, but only gradually so there were moments when I could feel it shoot throughout my entire body. I took my seat behind Riccardo's one and after he gave a little spiel he sat down next to me. I knew that my seat had all the air conditioning and that he had to sit in that God forsaken seat surrounded completely by glass windows for six hours at a time so I asked if he wanted my seat. He looked hurt for a moment and then said, "What? You don't want me to sit with you?" That is when I did it. I rolled my head towards him and placed my hand lightly on his biceps and said, "no, I do want you to sit with me" and smiled. I could tell by that one moment pause and the smile that creeped upon his face that he thought I was coming onto him.
I knew that I am naturally affectionate. I use to have unique friendships with males where we would always hold hands, link arms, have candlelit dinners, stroll by the lakeside and out at night. I would often wrap my arms around people's waists and rub their shoulders as a way of saying I am fond of that person, but my friends and I got a lot of heat for being misleading and since my university years I have tried to be more cautious of how I interact with people. I find it more difficult to keep my guard up when I have had something to drink or when I am sick, so in this case I knew I was too sick to really censor my movements or words. I think this is when Riccardo and I began to think the other was interested in them, but really you just have two people who are quite alike who can end up misleading the other.
We began talking about our lives in brief detail. I told him I thought he had a difficult job, because he had to be ready for us at 7am yet some of these excursions would not end until 12am so it was a rather long day. He told me he had been doing it for years and so he was use to the schedule, but I sensed that he was getting burnt out and tired of it all. He asked me if I was a student and I said I was a teacher. We started talking about what kind of English I taught and revealled pieces of each other. It was not until later that I realized that we reminded each other of each other so in essence I reminded him of himself and he reminded me of myself. We never spoke about it, but I think we knew it. He would try to make me laugh by joking about Tony and since I was still in pain and every word took some great effort to disguise as being natural, Riccardo finally thought I was not as interested in talking to him and returned to his seat.
It was only later that I noticed Riccardo picked up on how I try to hide my pain. I will wear my hat so that others cannot really see the pain in my eyes. I will also look down if you are sitting close to me to make it that much harder to read me. I will also speak softly so that you almost have to lean in to hear me, because I don't have much energy to speak and I am trying to sound as pleasant as possible. I know he didn't let me get away with that trick in Flourence. ; ) I actually missed him when he returned to his seat, but was also glad that no one could really see me in my weakest moment and that I could relax and enjoy the view.
posted by Ophelia Pace at 2:30 PM
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