The Pickup

Last night I was waiting for bus 59 in Naviglio Pavese [the Bronx of Milan] when a young gentleman [Serial Killer Jeffrey Dahmer] sits next to me.

I have my headphones in (attached to non-existant iPod) and pretend not to hear him ask me if I speak Italian (wish I didn’t).

Dahmer: “Parli Italiano?”

(“Whats that SMELL?”)

Dahmer: “Scusa-Parli Italiano!”

(“He WILL go away.”)

~Pokes me in the arm~

("Tonight is the night I will die")

~Take out headphones (first mistake)~

Me: “Yes?”

Dahmer: “Parli Italiano?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian.”

Dahmer: “Where from you?”

Me: “Sweden.” (Second mistake-Swedish girls are to men what Valium is to menstruating women).

Dahmer: “Ou, che bella che sei.”

~Put headphones back in~

Dahmer: “Scusa!” 

~Pokes me~

(“Remind yourself to burn this jacket.”)

Dahmer: “Sei una modella?”

(“Don’t mock me I’ve obviously gained 2 kilos.”)

~Bus arrives; he sits next to me; World Ends via bad smells and offensive gestures~

If yall wanna pick girls up at bus stops, at least do it in a Mercedes.

Rewind two weeks: Paris.

I’m sitting on a bench admiring my new cheap lingerie.

Approaching: well-built man (steroids), early 40s.

Steroids: “Hello!”

~Put bra back into bag~

Steroids: “Hello?”

~Standing over me; can smell his fake Chanel~

Steroids: “Where you from? Do you speak English?”

Me: “No.”

Steroids: “French?”

Me: “Russian.” (Mistake; Russian girls are to men what chocolate ice cream is to a dumped girl).

Steroids: [Speaks Russian]

Me: “…”

Steroids: “Do you work out?”

Me: “Obviously not.”

Steroids: “I teach a Pilates Class; I’d love for you to join me.”

Me: “I’m handicapped.”

Steroids: “Are you a model?”

Never ask a girl if she “works out.”  You may as well tell her she’s fat.