First Kiss in Italy

The weekend had finally arrived, and for the first time since Hillary (my roommate) and I had begun to embark upon the night life in Perugia, Italy, I was excited to go out. Everything was still pretty new to me, and being the good girl I was raised to be in Seattle, I had very little experience of what would be expected.

After classes finished around 3pm, we immediately began to get ready. We opened a bottle of local wine, touched up our makeup, chose the outfit to wear, straightened our hair and waited. We waited for what seemed like forever, not knowing when would be the appropriate time to go to the local discoteca, ten? Ten thirty? Eleven? We were so anxious that we decided to head out around nine thirty.

We walked across the street to a noisy bar that I can only remember our nickname for it: The Enemy. Named due to the many noisy nights of no sleep is caused from the loud music and even louder occupants. But even though it was our “enemy” we chose to go there anyway because of the rumor that it contained cheap shots.

After our stop there we made our way to the local free entry discoteca called “Rock Castle”. At the entrance we made a full stop. There was nearly no one inside. Just a few less than respectable looking middle aged men who were hungrily eyeing us the moment we opened the door.

“Um, did we miss something?” ask Hillary nervously.

“I don’t know… Maybe we came too early, Let’s get a drink and chill a bit to see if it gets fuller.”

So we meekly found our way to the bar and ordered drinks and sat rather shyly in a corner trying to avoid the gaze of lonely men.

“This is creepy. You want to leave?” asked Hillary in a demanding voice.

“But where would we go? I don’t want to just go home.” I had worked too hard on my appearance to just abandon the night.

“Why don’t we wander around and see if we find anything interesting, and come back later.”

“I’m cool with that.” I responded and we got up and left.

We turned a corner and begun walking down a street we’d never walked down before. It wasn’t long before we became completely overwhelmed by a group of college age students.

“Ciao!” a girl greeted us immediately and warmly.

“Ciao.” We replied, Hillary more enthusiastically than I. I was always weary of new situations and with Amanda Knox still withering away in a local Perugian jail cell, I wanted to steer clear of any and all possible bad situations. All the members of the group turned to Hillary and knowing automatically that we were American, they spoke to her in English.

They asked us where we were from, why we were there, what we were studying, etc. One young boy in particular, who looked like he had partaken in a large quantity of erba (weed) earlier, began to pay particular attention to Hillary. She didn’t seem to mind in the least. I knew that Hillary had a serious boyfriend of several years back home, whom she had made a vow to be faithful to. She wouldn’t be swayed that easily, could she?

The group invited us to a house party they were headed to and we accepted, reluctantly on my part. We went with them, not too far until we came to a small, old house filled to the brim with people. It was clear that the party had been going on for quite some time from the example of empty beer, wine, vodka bottles, etc.

Being an introvert, it overwhelmed me. I didn’t know what to do or who to talk to. Hillary looked exhilarated. This was more her scene. Her new boy, Marco, found her the last dredges of vodka (without anything else to water it down) and offered it to her as we pushed and shoved to some unknown location.

Suddenly, an Italian boy found a chair to stand on and shouted to everyone in Italian. Everyone quieted down to listen to him, and even though I didn’t understand what he was saying, there was one word I heard loud and clear, “polizia”. I panicked. I had heard about Italian police and how unforgiving they were. I knew I was a girl from Seattle living in Perugia and thanks to Amanda Knox, Seattlites probably wasn’t all that popular at the moment.

Hillary and I asked Marco what to do and if we should leave. “Don’t worry,” he tried to calm us. “They come all the time. Let’s go upstairs.”

My panic did not subside because of his words, but Hillary seemed to be swayed by him and the vodka she was drinking. So we went up to the equally crowded, yet more cramped upstairs filled with people who seemed just as unfazed by the police as Marco was. I left Hillary to fend for herself, and went in line for the bathroom where I met two girls from somewhere in Northern Europe. They made it easier to pass the time being that I had now seen Hillary getting to know Marco better by exchanging saliva.

Well, there goes that vow to her boyfriend, I thought. The girls, unfortunately for me had to leave and I was left by myself, not knowing what to do. Within no time at all, a short balled man, perhaps in his late twenties wandered up to me with an obnoxious grin on his face. He pointed to his mouth saying in a thick Italian accent, “Kiss me!”

I kept on telling him, “No! No! Go away!” but he was insistent.

“Kiss me!” he begged.

“If I kiss you, will you leave me alone?”

“Yes, Yes!” he promised emphatically.

So I pecked him.

“Again! More!” He demanded.

“No! You told me you would leave if I kissed you!”

“Two kisses, I leave!”

So I kissed him again. This time he became more aggressive and wrapped his hands around the back of my head. I yanked my head out of his clutches and yelled, “Enough! Basta!”

“One more, then I leave!”

“No! You lied to me! No more kisses!” and I walked to Hillary who was still completely immersed in Marco.

“Hillary, I’m being harassed, can we go back to Rock Castle now?”

“Yeah!” replied Hillary a little more enthusiastically than I had expected. She looked at Marco to my slight dismay. “you wanna come?”

We were off, leaving behind the obnoxious little man who wanted just one more kiss. When we left the house my heart leapt when I saw two Italian policemen. I was then amazed when I noticed they had drinks in their hands, happily chit chatting to what looked like a friend from the house party.

The three of us arrived at Rock Castle once again, but this time it was stuffed with dancing, drunk people. Marco bought Hillary a rum and coke and I was left alone once again as they began dancing together and making out on the dance floor. I gave them some distance and danced by myself. This wasn’t nearly as fun of a night as I thought I would be.

However, in no time at all, a man who looked like he was in his early thirties approached me. He was well dressed and had a pleasant face. Sure, I wasn’t in the least attracted to him, but it was nice to be able to dance with someone. He was far and away better than the “one more kiss” guy anyway. He was nice, and we danced together and he kindly bought be a drink.

I did think that he danced a little strangely though. He go so into the music that he began shimmying and doing all sorts of unusual things with his feet, I couldn’t help but feel that I was being pranked. I began to laugh. He took my laughter as more positive than it really was and began kissing me. I was so innocent, I had never made out with anyone before. I decided to try it out being that like most every gril, I had longed for the day to be in this situation with someone.

I didn’t like it.

I don’t remember exactly what made his kisses so repulsive to me, but I felt uncomfortable, stifled and I wanted to leave more than anything. What made this guy so funny now repulsed me. For a moment we stopped so he could show off some more of his spectacular moves. In that moment everything in my body wanted to run away. It was almost compulsive. I turned around and left.

A pang of guilt hit me when I walked away from the guy with no explanation as I headed straight to Hillary who was still making out with Marco.

“Hillary, I want to go home!”

Earlier that night we had decided to make her the bearer of the keys being that she could hide them in her long boots.

“Not yet, I’m not ready.”

“Can you give me the keys then? You can text me when you get home and I’ll open the door for you.”

“Just wait a minute, I’ll come home with you in just a sec.”

“I’ll wait for you outside.” And I left to cool down and hang out with the smokers. To my horror, I saw the little obnoxious man walk up to me with his grating grin.

“One more kiss!” he demanded. Was this some kind of nightmare?

“No, go away, I don’t want to kiss you.”

“Please, one more kiss!”

“No! I’ve given you all the kisses I can, leave me alone!”

I tried to stay outside as long as possible before I couldn’t stand his begging and pleading anymore. I went back into Rock Castle to find out what was taking Hillary so long. Even though the discotec was closing and people were flooding out, I found Hillary where I left her, making out with Marco. Before I could get to her, the man I’d danced with ambushed me. He looked angry.

“Why did you leave me? That was not nice!”

“I know, I’m sorry. Hillary, we have to go.”

“It was not polite what you did! You should have told me you were leaving!”

“I know, I am very sorry. Hillary, let’s go, now!”

“I think I’m going to go with Marco.” She replied.

“I don’t think that is a very good idea, Hillary.”

“You can come too!” Chimed in Marco.

“Uh, that’s very kind, but I just want to go home.”

“I’ll be fine, just take my keys and I’ll message you when I come home.” Hillary replied in a slurred, not very reassuring voice.

“Fine. I replied and took her keys. I left the Italian man behind who was still chastising me and asking me where I was going. I came back to the sanctuary of my apartment and my own bed and didn’t hear from Hillary until the next day.