Quite a few of my readers offer me to meet them. Not just men and not just dating. Women also write to me quite a bit: “Marcel, let’s be friends!”, Or when they see me coming to lecture in a certain place, they offer a bed, accommodation for the night or I will just come with Geffen because they also have a girl of the same age and lots of toys. And with a smile, not out of condescension, God forbid, do not forget that every new person I meet is a great potential for a story. I refuse because I do not want them to be disappointed, in reality I am much less melancholy, deep or penetrating than my stories. , Satanic, and if there is no glass of wine and some man seeks philosophy by, I will avoid deep conversations, it exhausts me.
That’s exactly why I refuse. There is a phrase I like, “Do not meet your heroes.” My advice to you – stick to it. From experience, it always ends in disappointment, let your imagination fill in the missing details, there is no need for the person himself. From him also cook for you, install doors and do Pilates together, right? That’s his profession and that’s where it ends. So (this) writing is my profession and that’s where it ends, why should I disappoint others?
Still, sometimes I want to and even strive for a meeting. Sometimes readers come to me who find it hard to resist their magic, there is something about them that is not in the mainstream and on the regular street, something that appeals to me and my curiosity without thinking about the consequences (even though today I am a hundred times more careful, I am not a mother). I have had several cases with my readers, once these were love affairs (about one of these, with some very established guy, I wrote to you recently), there was also a dying man who called me to write his will, there is also a reader named Ehud, who is walking to Gil 90 and responds to me by email on every column for nine years, and the one I love soul love. Seven years ago there was that reader, pleasure with the beautiful woman, who told me about their open marriage and revealed to me his passion as she sat by his side and smiled, and there were other such beautiful moments that I delved into my life and memories courtesy of some of my readers.
And there was also one evening with that girl. I used to fly a lot alone, even when I was married. My divorcee knew that once a year I needed four days of considerable quiet. At first he had a hard time with it, but then he actually fell in love with the idea that he too has his independence, his console games and the possibility to smoke at home without hearing screams. I think I flew to Georgia or Rhodes, no longer remember where it happened. I do remember that one evening I was very bored and after a video call with him I suddenly felt remorse, what woman leaves her partner for the sake of being alone? If you do, what’s the point of a relationship? I knew a big, irrational wave of emotion was ahead of me, and I instinctively prevented it from coming. I opened my laptop and was looking for guided tours or interesting workshops in the same country, yes, I think it was Georgia.
I found a night culinary trip with an Israeli guide and the last two places left, it was seven in the evening and the trip left at nine. I wrote to the guide on Facebook and he agreed even though I took a couple’s place. “I’ll pay double,” I suggested. When I arrived at the collection point, at the entrance of a night market in Tbilisi, I saw her immediately, she was standing next to a silver-haired man, I later realized it was her father, and his partner, who is not her mother, brought them both sweetened juice she had bought from one of the stalls before the tour began. When she saw me looking at her with my thirsty eyes, not for juice, for company, she held out her glass to me and asked “Want?”.
“Do not drink by mouth,” I replied, “but come with me to buy too.”
“Come on,” she replied and did not make a big story out of it, her father looked at us and smiled, I saw how much he loved his daughter, I was then 28 and she was about my age, shorter than me in head, shapely body, big chest, long and smooth devilish hair and a wide smile, “She had a charm that went over me and I did not understand what it was. It was very hot that night, she quickly finished her glass of juice so I asked the seller for two enlarged glasses and I gave her one, my fingers touched her and she looked at me and immediately smiled at the glass of juice.” I’ll get back to you soon, “she said, inserting the colored straw into her mouth. “Do you think so?”, I looked at her seriously.
She treated this life mischievously, flirtatiously. To this day and despite the word stores I have in mind, it is difficult for me to define it. I do not remember the culinary tour, nor what was served in it, except for one thing, some decomposed meat that was cooked in a stone oven for long hours, and why do I remember it? Not because of his smoky taste or the Georgian spices sprinkled over it, but because when he arrived, after a few servings and lots of explanations from the guide, we did not listen, because we talked a lot until the guide asked us to go back and stop disturbing the group, she snatched him from the guide’s .
I did as she said, we found two chairs next to a stall that was already closed, she loaded meat on a fork and asked for “Close my eyes and open my mouth”. I had the meat and tasted it, it was great, but certainly not one of the best I’ve ever eaten. I opened my eyes: “Why did you ask me to pet? “But we had a romantic moment, thank you,” she laughed and suddenly her smile became much more perfect, this time I asked her to close and I served her the meat, and suddenly, without warning, without asking, without groping, she approached me and pressed her lips to mine.
I gave it a few seconds, maybe it was the surprise and maybe the passion I did not know before and retreated, I let her finish the defeat and open her eyes slowly, wondering how she knew how to direct herself exactly to my lips.
“Did I scare you?” She asked.
“You confused me,” I replied.
“You’re beautiful,” she said, “and we’re abroad and the food is delicious, isn’t it?”
I wanted her confidence and for the first time in my life, I wanted her too.
Since it did not happen again, we boarded the same plane two days later, talked a bit, brought up fresh memories from the guide who shouted at us both non-stop and said goodbye in a hug.
I have not felt this way about any woman, and my great (sometimes exaggerated) love for the male sex overshadows any other desire, but sometimes, when some big wave of loneliness comes and threatens to drown, I remember her and log on to her Facebook. She has since married a woman, and they have a beautiful girl they love to dress in funny dresses.
And more than once I wonder, when will this expected world surprise me again, when will something unexpected come again and stick its lips to my lips and create in me such a bubbling memory.
She was very beautiful to me, too, both Georgia and the same passion.