Monday, October 31, 2005

Where in the World is Carmine Giovinazzo?

I’ve been having the most wonderful reoccurring dream lately. I couldn’t make this dream up if I tried. I dream I’m waiting on tables at a little Italian Restaurant in New York City. I’m wearing one of those white cotton Sophia Loren off the shoulder peasant blouses. Of course, my bust line and Sophia’s are quite evenly matched so I’ve got the Sophia Loren cleavage thingy goin on. I’m wearing a solid color mid-length voile skirt. I guess you could say the outfit appropriately belongs in an Italian Restaurant or maybe in a stage production of West Side Story. Anyway, into the restaurant walks Carmine Giovanazzo. He’s wearing an Italian style black suit, white dress shirt, thin black tie, hair in his usual tousled fashion with a cigarette loosely dangling from his mouth. He quickly removes his sunglasses and scans the room with his beautiful blue eyes. I want to die. Yet my glance shows little emotion. The maitre’d shows him over to one of my tables. I’m still as I watch him approach. He walks up to me with that hot deadpan "I’m a New Yorker hard guy" look of his, takes the cigarette out of his mouth, and slightly turns his head to blow the smoke off to the side. His eyes return to mine. He slowly moves closer and closer to me until our chests are practically touching (or it could be, mine has gotten in the way again). Continuing to gaze into each other’s eyes, he puts his hand on the back of my head and pulls it towards him (rather aggressively I might add) and begins kissing me long and passionate until soon my back is on the table and the dishes begin breaking onto the floor. He quickly clears the table of everything but me…and him. We slowly yet awkwardly get up from the table. I look around the restaurant while trying to regain my composure and the 50 or so NY Italian dining patrons are turned around staring at us in bewilderment. I quickly fix my skirt so that I again look presentable. Meanwhile Carmine, still holding my arm, leans in and whispers into my ear, "What do you say to going back to my place later for some dessert?" Dream ends – right there. Whoa! What a dream! I think I’ve been away from the East Coast too long. Yes, Carmine, not only do I want your spumoni, but I want to marry you and have little Italian Carmine babies with you! OK?
Well, after all this, I’m getting another shower and going to bed. Sweet dreams everyone!


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