Melancolía
Leaving the country on tour is one of the strongest fantasies you have when you start with music, like all things in life when finally things are not as we imagine. Especially if the tour is with Lidia Labrocca, an insufferable lady with airs of Tita Merello whom I accompany at the piano. Emotionally unstable, capricious and aggressive, she complicates me quite a bit (even had an innuendo that I managed to avoid with enormous tact not to offend her). The thing is that in order not to have her near me, I would escape from hotel and walk through Nuremberg without too much interest, entered a museum with an unpronounceable name, wandered through the corridors looking at the repetition of boring portraits, until I reached the engraving Melancolía1 by Duero, at first only called my attention a magical picture in which you always get 34 if you add up the rows or columns, then I discovered the expression of boredom of the angel, the thin dog, the tools thrown away, the bat and I got lost in thought thinking about the mysterious symbolism it encloses. When I returned to paying attention to my surroundings a girl dressed in uniform was looking at me and said something about the engraving that of course I didn't understand, I told her I didn't understand, she smiled and admired her very white teeth, in English? very bad my English... with an astonishing predisposition (considering it's a public employee) and much patience was explaining the allegories of the engraving and when I said it was from Bs As she commented that she saw Argentines as melancholic people, I asked if it was because of football, then she gave me such a lovely laugh that my heart skipped a beat, it was because of tango which seemed to her a beautiful but very sad music. Of course I invited her to the night show and Agnes (that's what she was called) accepted. Never again inopportune, Lidia had one of her nights, before playing she told me she wanted to sing volvió una noche, I didn't remember it and we had a cross of... words just before leaving. Already on stage I announced that I was starting with that... I followed her as best I could and it ended badly with desires. I searched for Agnes among the crowd and saw her sitting next to a huge guy who seemed taken from a movie about the SS. The show continued with several exaggerations and impostures that made me feel embarrassed, when I finally finished, I tried to recover my humor and approached where she was. I greeted her effusively, commented that Lidia was a genius (in art having references is everything, I thought to myself) and introduced the companion as a friend (boyfriend? Asked and both laughed out loud) it seemed like the big guy was gay and very friendly after chatting for a bit, I crossed some words in German with her (probably asking what she wanted) and she left.
Agnes looked at me amused while I tried to make her understand that tango is no longer THE music of Buenos Aires, that of course there were still milongas but they weren't massive, she interrupted me to ask if I danced... only if I had a woman naked nearby... the German got up, put on her coat and said: let's go?
I asked if she wanted to go to the hotel, we won't be allowed to pass, better my apartment is near... I don't know how near it was, we took an eternity kissing at every portal, lamppost and mailbox along the way, when we arrived I invited her a cup of quite fierce liquor that I drank without complaining while she put on music (luckily not tango) then she undressed with no shame (she was so good, she should feel proud) and took me to bed.
I don't know if all Germans are this active and energetic but my Agnes was a bomb, knew what she wanted and how she wanted it (plus our tastes coincided deliciously) we sucked, licked and bit for hours before making love and when I finally penetrated her she melted between my arms, whispering things I didn't understand or... they say German is a hard language, that depends on who speaks it and the circumstances, in her, while I was trying to grab the sheets and open up more for you, it was honey and chocolate. We got tangled up, wet under the sheets, I fell asleep with my head resting on the best pillow in the world: her breasts, with the sound of her heart like a lullaby.
She woke me up when it was getting light out, her bare skin under the sheets was paradise, my friend also woke up and we gave each other hard and soft at the same time, with that intimacy only achieved by sleeping together... scattered all over me, with my sex still inside, she said in a painful Castilian: I'd stay for the whole day with you, but I had to work.
We got dressed, I asked when I was leaving and unfortunately I had to take the train in the afternoon.
The goodbye was a long hug, I saw her walking away wrapped in a brown overcoat with a knot in her throat, holding back the urge to run after her...
While I'm waiting for the train to France and Lidia talks nonstop,
my mind is filled with Agnes and melancholy.
15 comentários - Melancolía
Yo, si fuera el personaje me pego la vuelta hacia germania
De lujo, un relato que es un tango, le faltó decie que las callecitas de Nüremberg tienen ese no sé qué y que garuaba cuando ella se alejó con su tapado marrón.
Meine herzlichsten Glückwünsche 👏 👏 👏
Gracias por compartir 👍
Yo comenté tu post, la mejor manera de agradecer es comentando alguno de los míos...
Es un gran aporte, mis felicitaciones @InvisibleT
Excelentemente redactado, breve y contundente !
Dejé puntines !
Gracias por compartir.
Angie te deja Besos y Lamiditas !!!
La mejor forma de agradecer la buena onda que se recibe es comentando, al menos al que te comenta. Yo comenté tu post, vos comentaste el mío?
Compartamos, comentemos, apoyemos, hagamos cada vez mejor esta maravillosa Comunidad !!!
Muchas gracias maestro, te felicito. Lo único que siento es no haber leído el texto hace un mes , cuando lo compartiste.