Torture Past the Fountain (fd)



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Posted by Wet Trousers on May 18, 2001 at 13:14

Here is the second of my stories about my business trip to Rome in the week before Easter. I wrote up my sighting on the plane to Rome as 'Desperate Climb to 39,000ft' (see link below).

Once in Rome, I was attending a global technical meeting and, as usual, we arranged an evening out for a leisurely meal. Now, this time, for the first time, we had invited a couple of suppliers to present to us on one of the days of the meeting and, after this, they came to dinner with us. The particular lady in question is in her mid thirties, average height, long dark hair, pretty attractive and is a global manager with one of the suppliers. She is from the USA and has an all-American name. For this, I'm going to call her Clarisse (not her real name) and hope that this sound about right. She was wearing a jacket and dark pants (trousers to those not from the USA - I've swapped the normal order as she is American!).

She was one of the more effective supplier managers present, because she took the trouble to ask us, as their customers, what we needed. I was keen to answer that and, I guess for that reason, she made sure that she was sitting next to me at dinner. The Italian host definitely hasn't forgiven me yet! The other supplier clearly has a no drinking policy so, after a few hours of aperitifs, wine and liqueurs, they seemed to get a bit boring (no doubt they thought the same of Clarisse, me and the others from our companies who were also drinking - all except the guy with his wife along!).

Anyway, after a few hours, we had consumed quite a lot of alcohol and, to stop from getting too drunk too quickly, quite a lot of water as well. Most people had got up once or twice to go to the loo. Clarisse and I had been once each as we were at the far end and had to push past everyone to get out. Anyway, at the end of the meal, the Italian and one of the supplier managers who knew Rome suggested that we walked around the city centre a little, as it was a fine evening. Half the group, including Clarisse and me, readily agreed and we spent from about 11pm (23:00) to 1am (01:00) walking around the Roman sights.

The group started going back towards the hotel and Clarisse asked how far it was. The people who knew Rome said about half an hour's walk. She definitely didn't look happy and said, "I need to get straight back to the hotel." So, the American guy leading the way said that he would take us straight there and the Italian took the other group, strolling more leisurely (they later ended up in a bar apparently). The American and Clarisse started back at a reasonable walking pace and, rather interested by now, I and another American went in the same group.

We talked as we walked and, after maybe ten minutes, Clarisse volunteered, "I really need to get to the rest room," (Americans seem to be a lot more forward in what they say than Europeans, so she didn't seem particularly embarrassed). I had been talking to her just before that, so was close when she said that.

Another ten minutes and she made another comment, but she was talking to one of the other men and I was talking to the other, so I only heard part of it. It started, "I need ...," and finished, "... break," so I guess it had words with a lavatorial context in the middle!

However, her biggest challenge was still to come! Our quickest route back took us past a big fountain! Oh, poor Clarisse. Not only that, but the shortest route to cross the circular shaped road layout was straight across the middle, right past it. I swear she didn't look at it, and I wondered if she would put her hands to her ears to block out the lovely musical tinkling noise of water on water, but she didn't. As we waited for a break in the traffic (you wait for the cars in Italy, not the traffic lights!), she said rather loudly (over the fountain's noise?), "I MUST go STRAIGHT back!" in a way that brooked no argument, and started edging out into the traffic. For a beautiful woman to do that seems a pretty effective way of stopping traffic in Italy, so we were soon on the final leg back to the hotel.

Straight in the main door and she looked round. Guess what: none of us knew where the toilets near reception were, and the ones by the business meeting rooms were right the other side of the hotel. She made a quick calculation and the risk assessment was clearly 'I know where my room is!' So, a rapid goodbye in the lobby and, lucky me, it turned out that I was in the same wing as her and headed towards the same lift, while the other two set off in the opposite direction!

Now, I'd love to tell you here about a total loss of self-control in the lift and a sight worth a thousand words. But, sadly, it wasn't to be. We were on adjacent floors and, when I got out of the lift first, it was "Goodnight!", a nice smile, and she clearly knew that she was going to make it. She was standing with her feet a bit crossed though! One day my luck will change for the better...

Wet Trousers
18 May 2001


Email: wet_trousers@hotmail.com
Home Page : Desperate Climb to 39,000ft


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