The other night I stayed up late and watched Fellini's beloved masterpiece, "8 1/2". The Italians are not known for being shy, coquettish and repressed and the film delivers plenty of bawdy fantasies and surrealist moments that are the hallmark of 1960's Italian Cinema.
When I went to sleep afterward, I had a curious dream. My best friend and I were staying at a five-star hotel and her room was across the hall from mine. For whatever cracked- out reason, she also had an adjoining suite that housed her Italian bodyguard- a gentlemen perpetually in shades who spoke no English and brooded constantly. He also was the spitting image of Marcello in "8 1/2".
In this dream I was so forward, so brash that I practically attacked the bodyguard at every turn, even in stairways and elevators, demanding that he have sex with me. Eventually, he sighed, flicked his cigarette away and gave in. He remanded me sharply in his beautiful, native tongue while he removed his shirt and tie.
The next moment, I was awakened by a cat fight which was going on outside of my window. Although I never got to finish the dream the idea of someone being so hot that I'd resort to attacking him in stairwells was molto buon, indeed!