3. Ideas of Sunday.

  Chicken has approached to the counter of the proper cafe while Silvio prepared a coffee express twos happy gentlemen on the about seventy, already ready for a charming game of bottles, and you/he/she has summoned him:

  «Panda, give me a middle beer!»

  It was perhaps the first true heat of the year and the skin of every client of the cafe it was shiny and sticky, since to the" Wine cellar" the conditioned air was still a thing all to discover.

  Silvio, justly assembled in his/her own job, it bathed of sweat the usual blue pole with writing" staff" on the back. With the serious face, you/he/she could seem almost bored, but in reality it was not him/it.

  That shirt was a gift of the boys that you/they frequented her/it" Wine cellar" about ten years before us, or before they got married him and they built families disappearing from the world of the cafes as that for more correct local on the long lake, to rigorously frequent with wives and issue to the succession. The blue sweater, become by now an uniform not authorized, it was, together with the photo of an a little probable formation of kick to five, the only trace remained of that group.

  I looked at Chicken and I wondered me as he/she succeeded us.

  I wondered me as you/he/she could still drink after the evening that we had passed together hardly, the nth Saturday evening alcoholic.

  Chicken was really of another category.

  You/he/she has taken a big sip, of those that would have made to come the shiny little eye to me, and you/he/she has set out toward the table where is sat walking loose and fresh as him same making a scampagnata; then you/he/she has looked me at some second with the usual face some svampita.

  To the table I sipped a depurative cold green tea while David read imperturbable her" gazette of the sport."

  «You owe as cazzo to explain me do! Are you a sewer, after an evening as yesterday you still dare drink? Moreover are fresh as a rose and I don't understand as is possible considering that I have a nausea devastante! You are indeed a big child of puttana!» I have told him using the middle communicative codes that we held between us. Every time that I turned me to Chicken was my habit to insult him/it with offenses of every type. I understand that you/he/she can seem absurd or unpleasant, but among us the dialogues had always been so, raw and wild, and however he responded me for the rhymes.

  «Day to your mother that the rest owes me» it has me in fact immediately answered him before beginning its usual stainless drinker monologue qual'era.

  «You don't know him/it that the day later you have to do the recalls? Be so that headache is avoided! It is true, it is a scientific thing, I have also read him on" Focus." Practically it is the body that has gotten used to the alcohol of the evening before, and if the day later not him of it from the, makes you come headache, for spite type!»

  Chicken was completely ungrammatical in to speak.

  It was one of those that departed sometimes with the" if I would have." From small Mark and I had tried to correct releasing him to it a blow in head to every error, but with the time we had abdicated us fearing to already offend subsequently that very approximate brain. This thing to quote then Focus as witness was really a beautiful fixed. You/he/she had read 3 numbers in everything but every time that he/she leastly affirmed something of confutable, it recovered Focus as allied. It was his/her sacred text, his/her Gospel and in front of the nth farneticazione I have not even tried to contradict him/it.

  David has lifted as soon as the head from the Gazette and you/he/she has said:

  «They want to sell Buffon? They are crazy!»

  But, still before someone could respond the usual discussion to begin him on the kick summer market, he was already rituffato her" Magpie."

  To have been the designate driver of the preceding evening it allowed him to have in comparison to us an enviable concentration and it authorized him/it to ignore us some.

  I still had a maddish nausea, not at all calmed by the cazzo of green tea in bottle that on the label disposition and rinvigorente it was professed, but to well to see contained only the 18% of extract of tea liofilizzato. Gianca had not arrived yet, probable that same anchor sleeping; Marcolino had not been seen him/it for 11 days, from that Wednesdays of the amazing announcement.

  The Sunday afternoon was frequently more and more one day from survivors.

  The evening before we had gone in Switzerland to dance. Not that the Swiss discos were more beautiful than those Italian, it is alone whether to stir some from the province and from the usual places helped the group to feel himself/herself/themselves some less frustrated.

  Moreover it was common opinion that the Swiss girls had very northerly an European mentality: as to say, it was said that they were more opened, more available, more....

  For my account, after having sieved for at least one decade the whole country of the chocolate, is able to categorically deny this gossip. To me Switzerland was suitable however, local new, new people, new figa, any indiscreet eye.

  To go to dance was the rite of every Saturday for the others, of every Saturday when I didn't see Chiara for me. It didn't do a lot of difference the place, the music, the context. To all of us it interested to find the most greater number of available potato and few selective, but in every case, badly that it went, it annihiliated us of Gin Lemon.

  Us of sure we could not have too pretensions, even if each of us in the relationship with the women was some to itself.

  David for example with the women you/he/she has never known us to do.

  Its technique of seduction was of a roughness and of a coarseness that could be good solo to the times of the caverns. It aimed one, it looked at her/it, rather it stared at her/it with an aggressiveness from tiger from the teeth to sabre, it drew near her convinced to thousand of his/her powers and it told her:

  «Hi very beautiful, do you drink something? Do I offer you to drink splendid, do we make us company then?»

  An approach of the kind I would not even have adopted him in a brothel for how much tamarro and boor I would have felt. But David was so with the women: misogynous, rough and inevitably lost. You/he/she had perhaps been beautiful if you/he/she would be been able to also allow him/it to board so, of similar characters are the discos but David full of it, dry physicist apart, you/he/she has never been an adone.

  Alone Giancarlo was worse David's.

  Gianca didn't see by now live some hair from years and that kind of history that had brought him/it to have the only sexual relation of its life was a memory dated of different years.

  As that time went we have never succeeded in knowing him/it, Gianca is one of the most reserved people whom I know.

  For all of us you/he/she had remained traumatized after the history with Marina.

  We were 15 years old and they went of fashion the parties to the house, those where the objective was hard limonare at least a couple of hours, until the red halo it didn't come you from irritation around the mouth.

  That evening Gianca had made the colpaccio: you/he/she had succeeded in being awarded Marina, landlady and celebrated. Marina was very nice then (before you/he/she fattened up and you/he/she ended up resembling to a sculpture of Botero) and Gianca, after a suffocating pressing, you/he/she had succeeded in doing her/it his/her. You/he/she had kissed her.

  Gianca that time had been our hero for the whole evening, a king for a night.

  The day later you/they were given appointment in station at 14.30 o'clock. We thought everybody that pits to put on together because it worked so, if limonavi with one to the parties in the house and in the following days you saw alone her in station again, he/she wanted to say that you put together there. Nothing serious to say the truth, histories of one month or two, disengaged things, party things in the house.

  However at 14.48 o'clock our Gianca, eight jots of gel in head, were already of return to the Wine cellar. To think that for the occasion you/he/she had put on even a shirt, ugly, but if the put era.

/>   In front of our interrogative looks you/he/she was abruptly pronounced and with a brave honesty frankly.

  «You/he/she has said that you/he/she had drunk too beer. You/he/she has also asked me not to tell anything to any respect to last night, that is ashamed.»

  I don't remember well, but David had perhaps tried even to console him/it.

  Us no, as was he able?

  At Chicken and I were looked there and we had bursted in an exaggerated laughter, stuff from tears to the eyes and ache of belly. Our resounding laughter had also infected soon David and Marcolino that if n'era gone out with a wisecrack as «Beh, could go worse! Besides being ashamed you/he/she could be reported you. or to rob you!»

  It is even to that point to Gianca a smile you/he/she had escaped.

  Probable that our true strength had always been that: to know how to laugh together at the our small sfighes. It is sure what we have picked him up for the culo for years for that history of Marina that was ashamed and he/she knows me that a pochino Gianca had remained badly there.

  With the women instead I got by, also too much.

  I don't simply believe pits because I was nice: I admit that my aspect made me depart in advantage, but it was not alone that.

  I had the times, the ways and above all I understood, thanks to a dowry that I considered innate, the women's looks.

  Two of spites don't remember to have taken of it of eclatanti, perhaps two or three in everything.

  I was good to read on the face of a woman the intentions and to calculate accordingly my possibilities. I was good to understand if there would have been or no, dopodiché I regulated me: without precise signals, I didn't even try there.

  It was a good technique because it allowed me to constantly maintain tall the autostima, but it had a limit, a fault: even I avoided to try us with someone whom would have been. Little evil, with the women I didn't have of whether to complain me, both for quality, and for quantity and however, even if you/he/she had gone badly, I was engaged. Once Gianca had defined me a" traitorous seriale." Absolutely appropriate.

  When Gianca has reached us to the" Wine cellar", we have observed him go down from the 106 red with greater difficulty of that with which you/he/she would have been able to make him/it an old man of the hospice. You/he/she hardly woke up and surely you/he/she had not even had lunch. You/he/she has drawn near to the plastic tavolino white without greeting anybody among me, David and Chicken. Then, turning to the group, you/he/she has stuttered:

  «You know, did I think that, considering that, does he marry, would we owe us, to organize, the goodbye to the bachelorhood, no?»

  «Gian but does as cazzo speak? Seem ET! What is it, a telegram? Does it breathe, are you telling me that we have to think about the goodbye to the bachelorhood of Mark?» I have answered him.

  In effects we had not thought there yet.

  «Yes!» you/he/she has confirmed him in the middle of a gape.

  David has lifted again then the head from the gazette, but with a more definite movement and scattante than you/he/she had not made few minutes and you/he/she is inserted in the matter.

  «Cazzo is true! We organize a super evening: supper, handcuff alcohol and super puttanoni everywhere!»

  «You, practically as last Friday! Beautiful night of merda that where you have brought us!» I have abruptly stopped him.

  David thought that to go to puttane, was after all, more convenient than to have a real fiancée and you/he/she motivated his delicate conviction both from an economic point of view that report her from a point of view. It said that of sure a puttana gave her/it for you to the first evening, you didn't have to bring out her to supper, you didn't have to bear whinings and" headache", neither to remember you birthdays and anniversaries. Truth is that the sentimental model of David was slightly sessista, but he thought her/it so and we accepted its ideas.

  Gianca, felt the usual discounted proposal, you/he/she has looked at David with the same crossed expression that I had me and you/he/she has affirmed:

  «David but cazzo, possible that owe always infognarci in those taverns? We do something some original, that I know... we take a trip together, we go to some capital European, we depart for one long weekend. For once we try to go over the alcoholic ones and the mignottes, no?» You was evidently riconnesso.

  Thinks her about departing it was not badly, the summer and the borders it arrived for estranging us from the habit of the place where we lived there were broadly.

  Minutes we have been different to study the thing quoting the run cities and the weekends papabili.

  I liked the idea to go to Madrid, I had never been in the Spanish capital, but Gianca sustained Copenaghen and David, to say him/it, insisted not even on Praga.

  Suddenly Chicken, that it thought continuosly about in his/her thoughts, you/he/she has interrupted us saying a good person of it:

  «A camper! Let's rent a camper and turn! Is the marriage in September no? We take there the whole same week of vacations to August and we make the goodbye to the longest bachelorhood of the history!»

  «I like!» Gianca has exulted.

  Immediately I am me chosen spokesman of the group and with solemnity already tested by a lot of similar situations trails I have exclaimed

  «By show of hands, favorable?»

  Me, Chicken and Gianca we have industriously mentioned the gesture.

  «Contrary?»

  «Abstained?» David has made a lazy sign without dissuading the look from the newspaper. Once more it was evident as he/she preferred the puttanes.

  «Approved!» I have concluded the small mass in scene.

  With that simple system of the raisings of hand, we took the decisions of group from a life. Perhaps it was some childish, but you/he/she had always worked.

  Different it was when, looking at the culo of some girl, I called the" shovels" and all pronounced there type Olympic jury" 8.0, 9.5, 8.5."

  «Good child of Helen of Sow! You have guessed one of them!» I have exclaimed turned to Chicken with transport. He has fixed even more me with a face svampita of the usual one and you/he/she has answered superb:

  «Considering that idea head of tuna? Goodbye to the bachelorhood... trip... we do a" trip to the bachelorhood"!»

  And while Gianca a little kindly invited him/it to commit suicide him, I have thought to how much it thrilled me that idea that was who knows as succeeded in giving birth.

  From that moment in then I would have considered the trip, the goodbye to the bachelorhood of Mark, our rite of announced passage. Already conceiving him/it as a kind of" last action" of an important part of life, I would almost all have poured again on that project my imaginations and my expectations.

  Often happened me to give particularly an incongruous importance to the future events and this time I hoped that the goodbye to the bachelorhood of Mark would have changed too much somehow the inactivity of my situation statics.

  I would not have understood, if not a lot of time later, the course that would have had that experience on the course of the life of us all and I would not even have ever imagined how much that trip would be become unforgettable.