Permaflow
19, Selling fashion http://realini.blogspot.com/2022/02/unique-in-world.html?q=unique+in+the+world
We went
into the fashion business in the late nineties, with the local House of Gucci,
with Paul from Pitesti, the fellow I had met about ten years before, in the
story that I have abandoned, itself a tangent on the Audi saga, but do not
worry, sometime this year, or the next, I will probably return to the topic,
and the chap and his wife would show us the ‘atelier’, the shop where they had had maybe ten or
fifteen workers making dresses, jumpers, skirts from wool and some other
material, and a partnership was proposed.
It involved
us buying half the shares or so, and then take care of the selling part, or at
least a large part of the enterprise, and it meant going to Unirea, Cocor and
other outlets (the former was the biggest and probably the only massive mall of
the time) and talk to individual proprietors and try to have them place our
wares on their shelves and put them on display and sell them, sharing the profits
on some scheme…the huge ‘magazin’ was in fact crowded with more than a hundred
small shops…
For some
time, some of the dresses, skirts, blouses sold, but nowhere near the numbers
needed to make a decent profit, if any money at all, and in due time, we had to
throw in the towel and say this is not working and we are refused when we try
and bring in more stuff, after they return what we had not sold in the previous
batch and we had to say that we need out of the deal, since it is not working…
I do not remember
if we recuperated anything from that investment, but I know I still have one
sort of wool coat and perhaps a couple of pullovers, but let us return to the
trip to Mamaia, and the first encounters with Pitesti Paul, who was famous in
the circle for a joke he was making when we had a vacation together, still on
the Black Sea Coast, but in Costinesti, before the 1989 Revolution, in the first
encounter with Paul, when we were staying five to a room, Sherika, her brother,
Adrian and I, with Paul one of the tow who were supposed to be in the room, the
other was Adrian, but this was a sort of tradition.
Indeed,
from that Costinesti vacation, we would travel to Predeal, where I had a ticket
from the university, and we would use it for four people, the same Sherika, her
brother and Adrian, this time I would be the possessor of the papers, the
official guest at the villa which was higher than the Orizont Hotel, on the way
to Trei Brazi, where the official girlfriend, Sherika, would soon leave for
home, with her brother, allowing the Despicable Me to bed with one woman, then
move on to her friend, and then the third in this circle (however, just two of
the three would go all the way, to Carnal Knowledge, the third would just agree
to platonic intimacy)
Returning
along the thread of the story to the Audi and the horror story connected with
it, we were visiting Paul aka Paulica, in Mamaia, and I think Adi was with the
daughter of the big shot from the National Radio, Mr. Sun, who in herself had a
bit of a story with us, or maybe two, we met her on the beach for nudists and
Adi made the first move, when I had been absent, and ignoring their arrangement,
I would approach her as well, and later, when we returned from a disco night,
she would stay on with the women I had invited with me and intended to fuck, only
the chemistry between Miss Sun and this prospect was much better and we can
only assume the tow had carnal relations together.
I had met
many women in Costinesti, another case jumps to mind, while with Sherika in her
official consort capacity, I would scan the beach and everything else for
targets, and while going to get food, I arranged a date, but Sherika found out
and she went out to the place where I was supposed to meet this bint and said
‘you are waiting for Realini…he is not coming’…on this fatidic trip to Mamaia –
I know this is all confusing, but let us place this part of the story in the context
of wild parties and beanos, where it is hard, nay, impossible to make head or
tail, but then it was such a wild ride, what with the end of communism, a
frenzy of liberation, a hunger, lust for sex, getting wild, recuperate the
years of darkness, albeit within those Dark Ages, one of the few, maybe the
only, venues to let off steam and feel free to do something was the bed, or
quite often just an enclosure or a bush…I would fuck quite a few women in the
open lockers of the Student Park, a sort of small beach, near a quite dirty
lake, which one of the exclusive, classy places today the Pescariu Club, and
they had some cabins where girls would agree to oral sex, if they received it
mostly and sometimes it was felatio
The
calamity with the Audi took place near the beach, we went to see Paul and his
girlfriend, with Adi and miss sun, and the four of them stayed in the
restaurant and I took this spectacular girl from Resita, in the car, north of
Mamaia, where the vegetation was (and is maybe)
thick enough to allow for some coitus in the ‘wild’ and then we stopped,
I started eating her fanny, then we had missionary sex and suddenly, a wild
noise broke out and something started kicking the windows and we saw a Savage
near.
This
pervert would know that people come there for the same thing (would this be
called the ‘lovers’ alley’ in some places, I wonder) and so he had his spot in
waiting and he had something like a baseball bat with which he started trying
to smash the windows and then we left the car, ran away near the main road, and
eventually, I would get the car back and what with the trauma, the fear and
everything, I would lose contact with the girl, I mean, we all went back to
Costinesti and then said goodbye, instead of trying to get her address, which I
now regret having missed, albeit these were days when there ‘were so much fish
in the pond’ that there was no worry about finding someone else, just as enticing,
if not more, and there was the Coolidge Effect in full display, explaining much
of what happened.
Coolidge
was an American president, I think in the twenties, in the last century, and he
went to visit this farm, with his wife, and she saw a very active rooster,
jumping on the hens nearby…the first Lady asks somebody how many times does the
bird do that, and the answer is some very high figure (would that be over one
hundred) and she says ‘tell that to Mr. President’ and when they do, the latter
asks if it is always the same hen, and they retort that ‘no, it is always a
different hen’ to which the president indicates ‘tell that to the First
Lady…hence the Coolidge Effect, and I have suffered badly from it…
http://realini.blogspot.com/2022/03/realini-in-newsweek-participant-in.html
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