Sex And The Married Italian Man

The 'Should we go bankrupt or public?' of the olden days has now been replaced with 'Should we go bankrupt or raise private equity money'? 

If there is an after life, then God willing, I will come back as an Italian. Italians seem to have a looser view of life than guilt ridden Jews or Irish Catholics. There are no Jews and Irish Catholics without guilt. 

My closest friend, for many years, until he left this world for the next was an Italian: Roland Biancalona.

Roland always maintained that his 'happy marriage' was held together by him having a mistress on the side and that cheating on the mistress as well, meant keeping his wife and mistress content.

In later years, when Roland was having trouble getting it up more than once or twice a week he conned his wife Dottie by asking Dottie if she was as disinterested in sex as he was. Her answer, "Yes" took the pressure off of him to try to accommodate Dottie, his mistress and occasional screw with his dying schlong. 

The amazing thing about Roland was that he was short, fat, partially bald with crooked teeth and he still charmed women right out of their clothes, as any true, blue, Italian man is expected to be able to do.

He loved to travel SAS and seduce those leggy, knockout, blond Scandinavian flight attendants. How he worked-in a Scandinavian airline to fly back from Italy was amazing. 

One time Roland,on a flight back from Europe, volunteered to give a flight attendant a tour of the Bay Area.

He then invited the great looking, Swedish flight attendant to dinner at his home and to spend the night. Suffice it to say she accepted the invitation which sent Dottie, his wife, out the roof. 

Worse, at about 1:00 AM, Dottie heard some noise downstairs and discovered Roland having sex (aka screwing) the flight attendant. For Dottie, who was a Catholic that converted from Methodist, divorce was not an option. She 'repaid' Roland years later, by having him cremated rather than divorce him.

He had always told me that he wanted a burial near his Father who he adored. Dottie wanted him to burn in hell.

Roland was, with one exception, a devout Catholic. He went to church every week. The exception was taking communion which, apparently, requires confession. He wouldn't go to confession and tell the priest that he had been fucking anything that would hold still. Roland said that the priest would insist that he stop his dalliances. No chance. No confession.

Make no mistake. Roland had a heart as big as all outdoors.We ate lunch three or four times a week, mostly at the North Beach Restaurant, talking about chasing pussy, stocks and laughing like crazy. Roland's upbeat personality was contagious.

Personally, I have just crossed another one of life markers. Am now 91 3/4 years old with a dripping schlong and aortic stenosis but loaded with optimism while looking for a new career before the fat lady sings.

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