Isabella
was a beautiful, small girl with long black hair extending to the mid of her
back. Her boobs were maybe 75a, while her ass was slightly too big for her
stature, but still very much ok. When she served a dish with the required
smile, the smile emanated a warmth that the other waitresses did not have. Her
face was not beautiful in the classical sense, but very attractive, because it
was quite regular and symmetric. This symmetry was only interrupted by a small
black dot, maybe 1 mm in diameter, next to the tip of her nose, which however,
just made the face more interesting. She had quite a big nose, which did not
detract at all from the attractiveness of her face but rather gave the observer
more space to rest his view on.
I
had no idea where Isabella may be coming from. The black hair and big nose may
have hinted to Maltese origin. However, Maltese women usually had somewhat
curved noses, when those were big, but Isabella's was dead straight. In
addition it was an exception that a Maltese girl would be working as a
waitress at Exiles. There were no tips as you had to pay at the bar. So it was
more for tourists who liked the atmosphere.
I
had no idea, how to approach Isabella. When you have no idea, you use the
dumbest of all lines: “Where are you from?” After days of fruitless deliberation
I did exactly that. She responded “from Hungary”. I was stunned, that I had not
thought of this possibility, as I had part Hungarian blood in my veins, too.
Now I understood her face: it radiated a bit the charm of a gipsy. Not that I
have any idea whether she may have such origins, but it would explain it.
I
stammered in nearly inintelligible Hungarian: “my father was born in Budapest”.
Isabella was obviously intelligent because she understood the sentence and
asked why I did not speak better Hungarian. I explained that I had no
opportunity to use it and thus it was always quite difficult for me in the
beginning. She nodded understandingly and said, that it would come back with
more practice. Therefore she offered to exchange one Hungarian sentence with me
per visit. At this rate it was highly unlikely that I could pick her up by the
end of the season, as she only worked every second day.
The
other days there was a Polish girl, where I had no chance at all. Because first
I confused her with a waitress from last year, 2011. Then I compounded this mistake by asking her,
where she came from. I understood her response to be “ From Holland.” So I
responded: “The only words I know in Dutch are 'Innige Omhelsingen'”, which
means “deep felt embraces”. I learned this from a former Dutch girlfriend. On
this I got back: “I don't speak Dutch”, to which I retorted: “But you said, you
are from Holland?” “No,” she replied”, “from Poland”.
So 2012 was quite a bad
vintage year for me with repect to pickup of waitresses.
©
GG 2012
All
content purely fictional, any similarities to real persons, places,
firms, etc. are purely coincidental.
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