The Fucking Gelato Machine that Resolved Our Translation Barrier

 I was sitting on the vibrating gelato machine in the dark with Alessandro’s dick in my mouth. Blow jobs were easy compared to speaking Italian.

Alessandro pulled up to the sandwich stand outside of our hostel in a BMW. Apparently he had rented it for our date. He gestured for Mario, Chrissie, and I to get in. Mario stepped out from behind the sandwich counter and sat in the back. Chrissie joined him and I sat up front.

Alessandro asked me something in Italian. “Mi dispiace ma non capisco.” I explained. Alessandro repeated the question and I laughed uncomfortably. It was going to be a long night. How did I even have a date with this guy in the 1st place?

I met Alessandro at the food kart by my hostel in Italy. I wanted to go out to a chill bar rather than a club and I decided the closest thing was a food truck that served beer. So I convinced my friend, Chrissie, and this other girl Alexa, to come with me. I asked the “bartender,” the food truck guy named Mario, for and IPA. He had no idea what that was. “EE PEE AH?” I offered. No luck. I tried bouncing to explain hoppy and it led to nothing more then a laugh. But he suggested a decent beer to me so I was happy. A bunch of beers in and the last thing I remember was climbing on some poles and attempting to order a veggie sandwich “no queso, picante, picante, picante.” Chrissie corrected “queso to formaggio and my panini was a dream.

I didn’t remember that part of the night where I apparently met Alessandro but here Chrissie and I were on a double date with them.

We drove to see the Michelangelo statue. We drove on a road until we reached the top of the hill. The view was spectacular. Alessandro wrapped his arm around me and we kissed as the sun set. I was so relieved to be able to communicate with him in some form that I didn’t mind the PDA. Besides, in Florence, PDA seemed socially acceptable.

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We went to a quiet bar at the top of the hill and each had a drink. Then we drove to town to go to dinner. The restaurant had table cloths, something that poor college me hadn’t seen in a while. I was happy to have a quality meal that I didn’t need to pay for. Allessandro and Mario ordered this drink that was supposed to be a beer but had such a high ABV and was so sweet that it was almost considered a wine. That was at least my understanding. I didn’t love it but I drank it because I was struggling with the communication. I was hoping that Chrissie would translate for me but everytime I looked over at her, she and Mario were eating each others faces. Alessandro whipped out a pocket dictionary and we spent dinner cracking up and pointing to words in the hopes of actually making some sense to each other. It was funny but by the time we were done eating, it was getting old. The server offered us dessert but Alessandro suggested that we go to his family’s gelato shop. I loved gelato so I was down.

We stopped at Alessandro’s place to pick up a key and then went to the shop. It was closed but Alessandro suggested that he and I make some gelato. We went in the back room and he showed me how to put the ingredients in the gelato machine. He said I could put in whatever I wanted so I threw in peanut butter, chocolate, and hot pepper flakes. I don’t know what I was thinking with the pepper flakes but I just got excited. And I love spicy food. We turned the machine on and waited. A minute later and I was sitting on the vibrating gelato machine in the dark with Alessandro’s dick in my mouth. Blow jobs were easy compared to speaking Italian. Alessandro tried to stick his dick in me and I made him go get a condom from the car. Then we had sex as I sat on top of the gelato machine. He was decent but it didn’t even matter. I was ecstatic.
After we put on our clothes and tasted the “Sabrina gelato.” The peppers ruined it… or maybe it was the Sabrina that ruined it. We offered some to Chrissy and Mario but they preferred their gelato to be more pure- to contain only 1 white and creamy ingredient.

 

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