Rita Macrí made me wait a full hour. When she finally walked in, the room parted like the Red Sea. Every head turned. People stared, wondering what the hell a woman like her was doing with a metalhead like me.

She dressed in an austere and elegant manner: soft black leather jacket, razor-creased wool trousers, sheer black stockings, mid-height stilettos that still made her tower. Grey silk blouse, hair in a severe braided chignon. She sat opposite me without acknowledging my clumsy greeting.

She peeled off her gloves with sharp, impatient tugs, looked around in open disgust, then fixed me with a cryptic little smile—lips painted deep violet.

Seconds bled.

The waiter asked what the lady wanted. She didn’t even glance at him, just a tiny shake of the head.

“Order something, Rita. Please.”

Another shake.

“Please.”

“What are you drinking?” she snapped.

“Gin and tonic.”

“Same. Hendrick’s. Rocks glass.”

Then back to silent, icy scrutiny.

“You seem in a bad mood.”

“Why did you make me come here?”

“Thought it was nice.”

“Do I look like the pastry-café type?” She shook her head, irritated.

The waiter brought the drink. She sent it back.

“No lemon.”

“But gin and tonic needs lemon.”

“Not Hendrick’s.”

“Then what goes in it?”

“Figure it out. This place pretends to be classy; act like it.”

He came back with cucumber. She sniffed, pushed it away.

“Too strong. I’m a lady, not a Cossack.”

Third time lucky. Perfect garnish. She didn’t touch it, just dismissed him with a flick of the wrist.
Then she turned to me.

“Meeting the man I share dreams with, sounded mysterious and beautiful. Intimate. Just us. You decided our first date was supposed to be in a ridiculous patisserie.”

I had nothing.
“I can’t imagine what places you frequent, what your tastes are.”

“Of course. Someone like you can’t even remotely imagine… You’re scared of me. I get it. But you could’ve picked somewhere less kitsch. Somewhere with flamenco.”

She dropped a fifty on the table and stood.

“We’re leaving.”

We walked down Calle Sierpes. She eyed me sideways.

“Why do you dress like that?”

Shrug.

“Army jacket, black jeans, combat boots. Aren’t you a little old to dress like a misfit?”

I wanted to tell her to fuck off. Couldn’t.

“You embarrass me. I don’t want you walking beside me.”

“Then I’ll go.”

“I don’t want you to go. I want you to follow at a proper distance.”

So I trailed some metres behind. Bodyguard style.

We slipped into a side street, entered an elegant old house with an Andalusian patio. Designer showroom. Vittorio somebody.

“Vittorio and his little boyfriend aren’t bad. I sometimes buy things for my husband.”

“Me the pastry café, you a boutique…”

She ignored me completely.

“Is Vittorio in?”

One minute later a fifty-something hipster with a gay allures appeared.

“Rita, darling! How are you?”

“I want this gentleman’s entire wardrobe redone.”

“Any particular taste?”

“He has none. He’ll wear what we decide.”

“Ah, perfect. I love it. At your service, madam.” He winked at me.

I spent the next hour being stripped, dressed, turned, judged. Rita ordered, we obeyed. I was her new doll.

She touched my chest and arms a couple of times when I was half-naked. She clearly preferred me without clothes.

Finally satisfied.

“Only the blazer isn’t right.”

“I understand, darling, but with those shoulders… a classic-cut jacket, we’ll have to tailor it.”

“Fine. I want a full bespoke suit. Tomorrow.”

“The seamstress is booked solid…”

“I pay. Tomorrow, or never.”

“Of course, Rita. Tomorrow.”

Back on the street the lady finally let me walk beside her. She even almost smiled. The metalhead was almost forgiven.

Taxi rank. She handed me her card—severe, black, elegant, exactly like her.

“Tomorrow. Five sharp. My house.”

Gave the driver a hundred-euro note.

“Take the gentleman wherever he wants.”

“Why can’t I come with you now?” I sounded like an idiot.

“We’ve already spent quite enough time together for a first date, and it wasn’t exactly memorable.”

She peeled off one glove, let me kiss her hand—violet nails, cold skin—then snatched it away before I could linger.

A meager reward for the dog…