As far as I know, Mr G has never ever had sex in his life. He told me this as I was wanting to kiss him over our coffee and llagosta at Bar Bosch, in one of the most famous squares in Palma. This bar is probably the best in its specialty, those cheap and yummy sandwiches with ham and cheese. It is also the oldest bar in town, and the waiters working there seem like they ran away from a classic movie. After our coffee, we walked hand in hand up Jaime III and down El Parque de la Faixina. You see, with Mr G I have always felt like a princess. It is the thing about love, and Palma. Even though time changes the original feeling, the elegance still remains; sometimes it is easier to see than most days, but the hope that Cary Grant will appear next corner never fades away.
I was thinking so as Mr G made some joke about singles. I never listen to his jokes. We were walking and admiring Paseo Marítimo. The wind made the sea curl into a grey and threatening mass, crushing loudly on the sea sore. I look at Mr G, and we walk back. It has always been fun to see the same people at the same places. You see, that's another virtue of Mallorca, you get to know everybody.
That's why Mr G was never my Cary Grant nor my Frank sinatra...He was, I think, my George Peppard, my beloved true friend. And he still is.
We haven't walked Jaime III for a long time now. Everyday I walk by our favourite ice-cream store (San Miquelet) I think of the good days. Mallorca is him. When you are a foreigner in Mallorca, you love it, though the people living there don't want you to stay. The reason is, if the Mallorcans are clever, they wanna be foreigners.
I was thinking so as Mr G made some joke about singles. I never listen to his jokes. We were walking and admiring Paseo Marítimo. The wind made the sea curl into a grey and threatening mass, crushing loudly on the sea sore. I look at Mr G, and we walk back. It has always been fun to see the same people at the same places. You see, that's another virtue of Mallorca, you get to know everybody.
That's why Mr G was never my Cary Grant nor my Frank sinatra...He was, I think, my George Peppard, my beloved true friend. And he still is.
We haven't walked Jaime III for a long time now. Everyday I walk by our favourite ice-cream store (San Miquelet) I think of the good days. Mallorca is him. When you are a foreigner in Mallorca, you love it, though the people living there don't want you to stay. The reason is, if the Mallorcans are clever, they wanna be foreigners.
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