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Wednesday, 1 April 2015

FROM MY GAY CITY LIFE TO THE COUNTRYSIDE...



Curò was a village full of eccentric people trying to hide their most intimate malicious secrets. I had always been considered the guy from Milan, the city of fashion and the Londoner, a status that gave the locals the trust to reveal some of their secrets to me. In fact at their eyes I looked discreet enough and even better I did not know anyone so well, with whom I could have shared their indiscretions. Soon Tamara and Pamela did not have any issue kissing each other when I was around and the other women of the town decided to disclose their most intimate homosexual experiences to me.

It was not only the local girls to give some colour to my life in the countryside. I happened to get lots of excitement from the older inhabitants as well. Once I found the Punk covered in blood and lying on the floor. I kept on shouting for five minutes and when he woke up, he said: “Why am I here?” This was a question that still remains unanswered. The pick of the third week was the attempted suicide of Mrs Mariuccia. She tried to jump from her balcony facing a steep slope and as one of the maids rescued her before the jump, Mariuccia beated her up with her pine stick. The maid was taken to the hospital to take care of her broken right arm and some bruises all over the body.

One grey rainy day I took the Panda and went to pick up some ladies to take them to the graves of their loved ones. On my way back to the castle some workers had placed some temporary barriers so that very little space was left for me to turn the car and follow the road up to the castle. I slowed down and I went up very carefully, turning gradually the wheel towards left. Suddenly I heard the voice of one of the workers: “Stop! Stoooooop, basta!!!’’ It was too late. The Panda was too close to the wall that limited the left side of the road and the boom followed. I managed to screech the whole left side of the car and the rear left lamp bursted in tens of pieces. In that moment I knew the Mayor would have made my life impossible, unless I could repay in some way the damage I provoked.

When “the Wolf” died I was very sad. In fact except for his howling and that he did not like to be taken out of bed and put onto the wheelchair, he was the one of the three men who gave me the least of the troubles. I also started thinking time had come for me to dig the grave. Luckily the mayor decided to use my intellectual skills and to let some other guy doing the heavy work. It was the beginning of the summer and the local elections were getting close. My boss made it clear, he wanted to win and to keep his seat, or better his throne. On a lucky day mayor Bassi came to talk to me and gave me a few days off to go to visit my family in Milan. I did not have to wonder too long about what the catch was. Every evening at around 11:30pm, when the summer night was dark and there were no indiscreet people wandering in the streets, the mayor would come and knock at my door and ask me to follow him. We had to walk down the wooden stairs that led to his office in the medieval castle and the lights were always off to keep nosey eyes away.

The first day, he turned the PC on and he showed me the file. It was a hundred-page long pre-electoral program that had to be corrected and stylistically improved. That was my secret job. I had given up my ideals to be able to have a more bearable life in that remote place. The deal was not limited to editing, the mayor asked me to advise the older people I had to pay visit to, on where they had to put their cross on the electoral sheets. That was a part of the deal that I broke, I still had to keep some dignity!

***

It was the first week of June when my lawyer called me from Milan and gave me a tip to get rid of my social duties in Curò. Mr. Spreafico called me on the mainline of the town hall as my mobile phone did not get any signal and we had a very interesting conversation on the new privacy law. Basically I came to know that if I had disclosed my homosexuality to the military hospital in Milan I would have been able to skip my service and they would have not been able to keep record of it. I did not like the principle of being considered different for my sexual preferences but I did like the outcome. So once again I gave up my ideals and morals to spare a few months of cutting woods and writing the mayor political programs. I moved back to Milan in August but I still had to wait until the 9th of September 1999 to find out if I was released by my social tasks.