Monday, September 17, 2007

-I know you'll laugh, but...

-Yes?
-Please, I don't want you to think I'm hitting on you.
-Ok, go ahead.
-Don't I know you from somewhere?
-Maybe...
-Nice.  1971.  Hotel Negresco lobby.  Promenade des Anglais.  The baron introduced us... baron... baron what's-his-name.
-No, no.  I wasn't in Nice in '71.
-It could have been '77.  Any warmer?
-What month?
-April?
-Nope.
-August?
-August?  In season?  Heaven forbid.
-Of course.  I've never been in Nice in August either.  I don't know where my head's been lately...
-Was it in Portofino?
-When?
-October, '72.  I was a guest of what's-his-face on his yacht.
-Petrinelli?
-No.  It was tall and white.
-What's-his-face?
-No, the yacht.  I have a vague recollection of you on that yacht...
-Impossible.  I haven't been to Portofino in years.  I lost everything in a casino...  seven years ago!
-As far as I know, Portofino doesn't have a casino.
-It was an underground casino, run out of the count's summer home.  Count...
-Oh ok, yeah, I've heard of it.
-What was the count's name?
-Farci D'Amieu.
-That's the one.
-You lost everything?
-Everything.  I was saved by a millionaire Bolivian woman who adopted me.  I spent a month working for her as a slave.  God!  The remorse!  Luckily my family sent me money.  Banco do Brasil saved me from the fires of hell!
-Well, if it wasn't in Portofino, then...
-New York!  I'm sure it was in New York.  You were at Elizinha's place, at the King of Greece's dinner party.
-I was.
-So that solves it.  That's where we met.
-Wait a second.  It's coming back to me.  It wasn't the King of Greece.  It was the King of Turkey.  A different party.
-Turkey doesn't have a king, does it?
-He's unrecognized.  He founded the government in exile: 24th floor of the Olympic Tower.  It's the only apartment in New York that houses actual goats.
-Wait!  I got it.  Saint-Moritz.  The winter of...
-'79?
-Yup.
-Then it wasn't me.  I was there in '78.
-Then it was '78.
-Couldn't have been.  I was incognito.  Had a ski mask on.  Didn't talk to anyone.
-Then you were the one wearing the ski mask!  They said it was Farah Diba.
-Yup, little ol' me.
-My God, then where exactly did we meet?
-Does London ring a bell?
-London, London...
-Lady Asquith's home in Mayfair?
-Dear Lady Asquith.  I know her well.  But I've never been to her house in the city.  Only her country house.
-In Devonshire?
-Wasn't it Hamptonshire?
-Could be.  I always get my shires mixed up.
-If not London, then...  Where?
-We need to figure this out.  It'll keep me up all night otherwise.
-My apartment or yours?




-Mmmmm.  That was excellent.
-Yeah, for me too.
-Cigarette?
-Do you have a Galoise?  After living in Paris, I can't smoke anything else.
-Tell me the truth, have you ever lived in Paris?
-My dear!  I have a permanently reserved suite at the Athenee Plaza.
-The truth...
-Ok, it's not a suite.  Just a room.
-Confess.  It's all made up.
-How'd you know?
-Count Farci D'Amieu.  I made him up.
-If you knew I was lying then why'd you...
-'Cause I liked you.  If you had come up to me and said, "Wanna do it?" I would have said, "Sure."  Where'd you get all that stuff, anyways?  Negresco Hotel, Saint-Moritz.
-I never miss Zozimo's column.  I saw you and thought that to pick you up I had to bring my A-game.  Now, tell me something...
-What?
-Did you really wear a ski mask in Saint-Moritz?
-I've never skied in my life.  I've never left Brazil.  I've never even been to Bahia.
-I know you're gonna laugh, but...
-What?
-I really do know you from somewhere, really.
-Guarapari, three years ago.  My mom had an iodine treatment done there.  We met on the beach.
-Of course!  Now I remember.  I didn't recognize you without the bathing suit.
-You want a cigarette after all?
-What kind?
-Oliu.
-You bet.

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