As stated before, today’s post is a replication of a past post from 'The Odyssey of This Writer' – these will occur here on Thursdays while 'The Story of Terlokya' will be published here on Tuesdays. Enjoy. (One day late - sorry.)
Part 8 - Another
Great Tuesday Edition – Brought to you by Zenta and MLB.
03/19/13
Last week I talked about being in a language school in Bad
Reichenhall, Germany and hanging out with the older teenagers. I had just turned 14 two weeks after arriving
and learned quickly what is was like to party like a college student. So my
brothers and I hung with the ‘cool’ kids who were older, in the 17 – 18 range.
The Italians and French didn’t get along too well with the Americans,
Canadians, Greeks, Aussies, Kiwis, South Africans, Thais, and Filipinos. Our
group got along great. But when it came time to sneak into town from our school,
located up a long trail to a small mountaintop, all the ‘cool’ kids hung
together regardless of nationality. Don’t get me wrong – there was always
tension with the Italians and French, but nothing like on the soccer field
where the teams were always split between the international alliances and
players would go out of their way to kick an opponent right in the crotch
whether the ball was close by or not. The refs, being German, loved it so they
turned a blind eye. Volleyball was just as bad with leg swipes under the net or
fingers being poked through the net hoping to catch an eye. That’s why it was
so unusual for an Italian girl and an American boy to hook up. It was frowned
upon by both alliances. What made it more unusual was the girl being 18 and the
boy being 14.
You guessed it. I was that 14 year old American boy and Rita,
(last name will not be reveled due to the internet being available for snoopers
to try and track her down) yes, the Rita I mentioned last week, was that 18
year old Italian girl. I do remember her last name. It rolled off your tongue
like a song. I was star struck. Her red hair looked like it was on fire and was
so long and full. Think Gina Lollobrigida with long red hair. Rita had a ton of
guys chasing her, even local Germans. There was this one guy who thought he was
all everything, pencil thin mustache, fancy clothes, and had a car. I thought
he was a wimp. Well, he did have a lot more than I had in the way of clothes
and that car. But he wasn’t tall and handsome like me. (Gee, what did you
expect me to say?) And he wasn’t an AMERICAN from that magical land across the
ocean that most all European teenagers could only dream about. So how did we
hook up? Well, we had a class together and on the second day, she came over to
my desk and … oh wow … this should be a new paragraph and that means I’ve
already hit my 2 paragraphs. Sorry.
NEXT WEEK – What did Rita ask me?
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