NyLon! - chapter 7

Six days elapsed and to Raffa this weekend has been a newyorker one. In the meantime she has been going and coming back having no sex with me. Since I realised that there’s someone else in her peach, I haven’t insisted too much. It’s my sophisticated and desperate strategy consisting in making it lack so that she falls in love again with me. But it doesn’t work. She is happy without sex, at least with me. Happy on the mega-airbus among the clouds, always smiling, she can’t realise how evident her infatuation is for someone else. The thing driving me crazy is not to know who the hell this someone else could be. I cannot fight an adversary if I don’t know who is, what he does and how he does it, where he is. In America, obviously, in New York City. She certainly found him there, the transatlantic commuter bitch. Fucking bastard, I would widen his arse if I could, but I pretend to withhold the jealousy by trying to focus on politics. Seven days elapsed and in the meantime the 15 londoners’ memberships arrived in Rome accompanied by two thousand paunds translated in three thousand euros. Not a big thing, just enough to pay a couple of workers in Torre Argentina. Tendentially paranoid, this time the hyperactive Crapazzoni was instead rather impressed by my deceptive mix. I couldn’t only enroll all my former Bulgarian lovers, that would have not turned out credible with all those strange names. I limited therefore them to a pair of friends - the Vladimira Vladimirova Vladimiroska and the Liubomira Liubomirova Liubomiroska -, and added Gary and Tim from the party (mine), plus David, Fran and Orion, always supporters of the party (but its), the Nicola and Andrea of transexual memory, plus my neighbor Kate and her cat Dip. I also forcibly enrolled Andrea, Maria Cristina, Raffa and naturally myself. The decoy was placed, I only had to assess that the salmon bit it.