The island of Gigolos
His chest is completely depilated, the Gucci sunglasses.
It's always the same questions. Excuse me, is that Sorrento, over there? Or: Left, is this Ischia? Antonio accidentally touches the girl at the waist to correct the line of vision. He does not have to do any more when, in the afternoon, he lurks at the top of the Piazzetta of Capri, next to the cable car exit. Today is his day off. He works in the kitchen of the Grand Hotel "Quisisana". A modest but decent existence. His chest is completely undressed, the Gucci sunglasses, the washboard belly from "Fitnesspoint 2000" in Anacapri, because Antonio dreams of being discovered, either by a fashion photographer - without further ado, he could also have appeared in the Dolce & Gabbana campaign before photographed on the Faraglioni Rock - or by a wealthy, single American woman. He runs his fingers through his hair. The girl says with a German accent: What is your name? And Antonio says: I still have to work.
Not that she was not pretty enough for him, but summer is too short to scrounge him with girls coming to Capri for an afternoon from Ischia, looking for adventures. Antonio thinks of his future. While standing around with a sleepy girl, he may have been preceded by a taxi driver, a porter, a night porter - falling in love with that divorced, lonely, society-craving millionaire from Boston, waiting for Antonio. A millionaire who dreams of ensuring a livelihood for a young, aspiring Italian. To buy a pension. Or a small shop for ceramic souvenirs. Or a vegetable shop, with vegetables you are not dependent on tourists, vegetables can be sold throughout the year.
Antonio waits for her in the beach "Canzone del mare", where the lifeguard lets him use the deckchair free of charge. Or at night in the blue underground grotto of the "Number Two" club, where a bottle of Dom Perignon Mathusalem costs 14,000 euros and Antonio drinks only mineral water - leaning against the bar, motionless like a sunning lizard. So he says goodbye to the German girl and sneaks over the Piazzetta. It's nearly seven o'clock, the right time to meet the American she's been to last Sunday. With whom he had dinner at "Gemma" under fish traps and celebrity photos, and then danced until dawn in "Number Two", where she drank so much vodka that he had to support her on the way to the taxi. She called him Tony, his English is bad, her Italian not excellent, but it did not matter. When he left at noon, she put a few bills in his pocket. Maybe she will come today.
Antonio goes to the bar "Tiberio", greets the waiter and lets his gaze wander across the terrace. No trace of the American. He wonders if he should invest in a Tonic Water. The evening is still long.
Giorgio sits at the next table. Who does not suspect Antonios worry. And actually do not want to know about it. White shirt, white pants. Like many here on Capri, Giorgio looks like he's just stepped out of his sailing yacht. The difference is that he actually has one.
The loafers decorated with Louis Vuitton initials he wears barefoot, of course. He gives himself as relaxed as it is on Capri. With that aura that promises relief to have escaped the Armani double-franc, balance sheets and stock quotes. At least temporarily. Finally life barefoot.
He wears the first three buttons of his shirt open. Also to prove that he is a man. And not a fashion doll that tortures itself weekly by hot wax. And not just the chest. He could also go into detail at this point, but renounces it, because that is not a topic of conversation for a Signora. Only so much: In his opinion, men whose upper bodies are as smooth as Babypopos do not want to be men at all. But women. And that's not what women usually value. At least that's the opinion of Giorgio. And he has to know, because in good times he has helped to seduce three hundred women in one summer: two in the afternoon and one in the evening. Anyway, as long as the high season - and it is unclear whether Giorgio means the high season on Capri or his life.
At seven o'clock in the evening, when the stream of day-trippers has finally dried up and Giorgio does not have to worry about one of the monsters with a bottle of mineral water and a backpack falling against his table, he sips his Campari in the bar "Tiberio". He looks melancholy into the distance, on the majolica tiles of the bell tower, as a Russian couple approaches the next table.The Russian is still stumbling over her Roberto Cavalli bags when her husband is already pounding on the peanuts. Giorgio breathes on his fingernails and polishes them lightly on the sleeve of his linen shirt. With the attention of a drowsy crocodile he has noticed the Russian from the next table. She has narrow shackles, long blond hair and long legs. Under her dress, a thong panties off, which he actually finds un -otic, but good. She can not help her being married to a bloodhound.
He has a look for unfortunate married women.
Giorgio gives her a short smile. After all, he has a look for unfortunate married women - and what woman is not unhappily married when her eyes fall into Giorgio's dark eyes, at his Pasha Cartier, at his bare ankles, which he now massages lightly? Just as if trying to escape the memory of a long, busy week, what a week on a sailboat can count on, especially in bad weather: Giorgio has just transferred his yacht from Greece to Capri.
Giorgio is not only rich in heritage, but also of noble family, which is why he learned early on that there is nothing more lucrative in life than to escape from boredom. Especially on Capri. The dinners at the Contessa in Anacapri, which already begins at dessert, to continue their needlepoint. The cocktails in the house of that Roman olive oil producer who, on his terrace, surrounded by peach trees and bougainvilleas, jojoba and lavender bushes, overlooking Faraglioni rocks and azure infinity, can not help but lecture on the collapse of real estate prices. Only women help.
But you have to realize that Capri is not really the right place for this. On the one hand, the island is considered a homage of homosexuals. Oscar Wilde, Krupp, the Baron Heels. On the other hand, Capri is visited with preference by married couples. For Giorgio, however, that was never an obstacle, on the contrary, more of an insurance. For the fact that the affair remained spatially and temporally limited. For married women, no nights spent together are to be feared, no common awakening, no common morning toilet. Is there more agony than having to drink cappuccino together in the morning? In the end perhaps a cornetto is dipped?
The blond-haired Russian now gets up and gently grabs Giorgio's leg as she makes her way across the terrace. Giorgio would have to give now only a small jerk. He knows what's going on. Russian women go out to freshen up because they are talking on the toilet with their lover. Or because they want to meet a future lover on the way to the toilet. Giorgio, however, remains seated. Because the last Russian wanted to marry him. Because of the residence permit. It has proven to be married. He never thought about divorce.
They absorbed the techniques with breastmilk.
He again brings the glass with the Campari to his lips, looks at the clock and thinks about where he should have dinner. Maybe in the "Aurora"? He had sat there recently with Uma Thurman, whom he found surprisingly pale. It often happened there that Giorgio was considered Sean Connery. He personally has no weakness for celebrities. Especially not for Americans. Look at the sex like a fitness exercise. Americans have no depth, says Giorgio. Where the Americans are too shallow, German women are too deep. In any case, according to Giorgio's small but not insignificant statistical survey. German women are hopelessly romantic and not very playful. The last one wanted to leave her husband immediately and was already standing at his door the next day with two suitcases, which of course he did not open, with all respect for her and the German women. And for her nice long legs. Maybe not everyone has long legs, but some. Percent, at any rate, more frequently than Italian women - who, on the other hand, are masters of seduction: they absorbed the techniques with breast milk. Says Giorgio.
Maybe that too is a matter of age, he admits. He used to be intoxicated by exotic women. Today he appreciates the Italians all the more. Which may also be because he has been lately craving stories. They do not have to go so far as to wake up with each other. But a touch of a story is essential to eroticism. To be withdrawn, to be mysterious - and then to forget oneself in love. A specialty of the Italians. Gladly he remembers the Roman woman, whom he has met again over the years. She sent him sms, against the three volumes Anaïs Nin are a joke.
He heard nothing of her all year, then turned up overnight, which embarrassed him a little because he had already made an appointment. He swam with her into the Blue Grotto, he invited her to his yacht. He canceled everything for her. Although he sensed that she was by no means in love with him.One day he broke the rules and called her because he was consuming himself after her. She changed her phone number.
Meanwhile, the sky spans like a black and blue canopy over the Piazzetta, almost all the tables are empty, it's time for dinner. The waiters adjust chairs, glasses clink. Antonio is still sitting at the next table. He sips his tonic water as a woman approaches his table. She puts her hand on Antonio's shoulder. Giorgio looks after the Russian. She has given him a note in passing.
Travel Info for the Capri holiday
location In the Gulf of Naples, southern Italy
size About ten square kilometers, inhabited by 13 500 Capresen in the municipalities of Capri (in the east) and Anacapri (in the west)
status Island of longing since the 19th century, when poets and artists came here
getting there By ferry or speedboat z. From Naples or Sorrento
What to look for Piazzetta: the meeting place for looking each other in the other direction; from the Marina Grande in Capri you can take the cable car to the top of the hill Grotta Azzurra: Thanks to light reflections blue shimmering grotto in the sea Villa Jovis: Palace ruin from the time of the Roman emperor Tiberius Faraglioni: Three rock cliffs that rise up to 109 meters from the sea; Postcard landmark Villa San Michele: Airy, museum-style property with antique art
You should know that Tourist cars are undesirable and impractical on the island; you are mobile with Vespa, bus, taxi or funicular (Funicolare).
That should be left Just do not swim far off the coast, otherwise you'll be crossing the paths of speeding motorboats.
And otherwise In midsummer Capri is full, but magical before and after the onslaught of day visitors.
Internet www.capritourism.com
find accommodation
The website of the Capri tourist office lists all accommodations, from Bed & Breakfast to five-star deluxe hotel: www.capritourism.com. The tour operators Thomas Cook (www.thomascook-reisen.de) and airtours (www.airtours.de) offer a selection of stylish hotels in a good location.
Read
Capri. Weighty illustrated book with strong black-and-white photos and knowledgeable texts on topics such as "castles in the air", "Caprifischer", "Luxus und Jetset", "Faith and Superstition" (Prestel Verlag, from 29,95 Euro)
