Carl and Gerlinde (XXIII)
Of course, Carl had often annoyed her! And during those last weeks before she – admittedly a little cowardly and not very stylishly – had made herself scarce, he had actually done so without pause – at least that is how Gerlinde felt about it. Now, on her day of leisure of all days, she was sitting on her patio in Porto Santiago and, again, looking for excuses for that life of hers you could only call Bungled up with a capital B! But then, if you were honest and thought about it objectively, Carl had not been such a catastrophe, had he?
To be sure, the way he kept drinking beer was truly disgusting and the way he displayed his wobbly belly like a trophy was absolutely something she abhorred.
Certainly! But on the whole, he did not look all that bad! At least from the rear! And if he took pains, he could be really charming, there was no denying it!
Unfortunately! If what she had heard was true, some of his ’special underwear plants’ fell victim to his urban charm on an almost weekly basis, didn’t they? And we are not just talking Hannelore and, what’s her name? Some of them were fellow employees and customers. As far as ’underwear’ was concerned, they were far from just aiming at the ’appetite for selling’. Rather, their interest was exclusively with the ’appetite for him’.
Mind you, between bed sheets, Carl was certainly not your superman!
But – and you had to admit that was quite a rare quality in a man – if he set his mind to it, he was capable of quite a bit of sensitivity and fantasy! For most of the women, that was apparently enough! Well, the same had been true for her in the not so recent past, hadn’t it …
And – Carl was certainly lavish! With him, she had never had financial worries! Unlike now, when, regardless of free accommodations she never quite managed to make ends meet! It seemed that somehow she had totally miscalculated this when she had so abruptly left all those weeks ago. Just as she had miscalculated some other things as well! If Anna had not offered to let her do part of the waiting at the ’Salzburg’ cafeteria, she would now look quite stupid. But as it was, things were looking quite well: she was busy, she did not get cabin fever and she grew to be a terrific tip magnet: before the poor guys had time to think twice, their cents seemed to find their own way onto the invoice plate …
Well, the working outfit was certainly rather forbiddingly scanty! She really could hardly draw breathe in those tight-fitting shirts! Comfortable was certainly something else! And poor Dottore Satori also kept breathing hard whenever she bent down towards him … Now how was this going to end?
It was no surprise that the anatomically so interested Dottore soon believed he had acquired some right to her just through his ’tipping habits’. Consequently, he kept talking her up and inviting her out to share a meal. Once or twice, maybe even three times, she had already accepted. Without ever confessing to Anna!
The meals had certainly always been tasty …
But whenever he came along with his post-face-lift accompanying shadow for a small Aperol or a big Brown with Apple Tart, he was as stiff as freshly beaten egg-white; in the most rigorous way, he avoided every single gesture of friendliness, just in order not to give his jealous ’Botox Mummy’ a reason for stupid ideas.
The mummy probably also sat on the money! And there must be plenty, because, as Anna knew, both of them had now already been staying in the luxurious 5-star patio hotel not far from Gerinde’s bungalow site during a number of weeks in winter for several years!
Except – Gerinde was not quite able to figure out to what end the good Dottore kept trying his luck with her each week anew. With his distrustful ’aristocratic grandma’, he certainly was not going to be able to enjoy himself on the sidelines. Not to mention that Gerlinde did not at all feel like it these days: her life was complicated enough as it was. Thank you very much.
But perhaps it was just another case of testosterone. Just like with Carl, it probably immobilized all rationally controlled brain regions immediately as soon as a female object appeared on the horizon that looked even remotely like potential prey. The remaining parts of the brain were automatically set to emergency operation: calf-eyes, grinning impertinently, increased saliva production, et cetera, et cetera. …
Anna said it had taken more than a year with her too, before the Dottore had stopped with his attempts; but then she, as she had admitted to Gerlinde, had at one time let herself be persuaded to a do small ’intimate fight’ in the kitchen, which had been a bad mistake, because the good Dottore had assumed this gave him rights he actually was nowhere near having. But there came a time when he eventually realized his mistake. Ever since then, he always got a bigger piece of apple cake than all the others…
Well – sitting under her sunshade, Gerlinde had to admit to herself that probably tomorrow would be another one of those days at the ’Salzburg’ when she would catch herself wishing her ’mister impossible’ were sitting at one of the tables, instead of the constantly grinning Satori.
But then – if she was perfectly honest – she had no idea what she would do if actually her impossible Carl were sitting there, smiling and ordering his beer in a tight-lipped way? Would she ignore him? Pretend he was a stranger? Or even send him away…? Or would she, perhaps, even be glad? Actually, would she be glad enough at seeing him to embrace him and kiss him in front of everyone?
Mind you, all this regardless of him being a truly disgusting, ego-centred ’chauvi’ for whom women were just something to be used! While he himself never managed to achieve even the smallest of results at home! Not to forget that he, quite wilfully, occasionally provoked and annoyed her by his lack of culture and boorishness. And the only things that surpassed his obesity were his bouts of perspiration, his rhino snoring and his roaring laughter. Yet – and this was the strange thing – you could, for some unfathomable reason, like him …?
Consequently, Gerlinde, sitting under her sunshade at 26 degrees Celsius and drinking one small Aperol after the other, started asking herself more and more intensely and audibly why this stupid cow Hannelore had not long ago made it more than clear for this impossible dummy Carl where, when and how he might find his ill-treated Gerlinde. And that said Gerlinde might perhaps, under certain circumstances graciously see fit – if it had to happen and he were to swear a holy oath to improve his manners and if he were to really ask her very nicely – to let herself be persuaded to try one last time with him. And if everything else, too, was perfect, she might just consider making an exception to the rule and just this one more time fly back home with him…?
Or did that serpent Hannelore play a false game? With her, you could never really know …
KH
(Translated by EG)
PS:
Incidentally, the ‘strange hens’ are drawn by the author himself!
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