notary has dragged me here to kill some time while waiting for the Provençal night and now is walking ahead of me. I follow him past the plants and we sit at the table in the back, in the corner between the two stained-glass windows that delimit the bar.
«What shall we have, Brando?»
«I don’t know...»
«All this waiting has made me feel hungry and has given me cravings for drinking» he replies, looking at me. «Most of all, I want to have a drink.»
«Good evening, gentlemen, good evening notary. What can I get you?» the waiter asks. He is a nice boy, wearing an apron with black and white stripes and a name tag.
«Good evening Gigi, can we have two Franciacorta wine?» the notary asks.
«Sure, right away. Which one do you prefer?» Alessandro looks at me to find out what I prefer.
«Something like a brut, or less sugary, rosé wine would do» I suggest looking at the notary in search of approval.
«Fine, two brut rosé Franciacorta wine: I’ll check inside what we have. What would you like to have it with? Can I bring you our platter of seasonal aperitifs?»
«Sure, Gigi, that would be great» the notary replies.
«Brilliant, I’ll be right back, gentlemen» he says going off.
Five girls come from the hall behind me and sit at the table beside ours. They must be in their 20s and are all dolled up as if they are in their late racy teens; two of them are compulsively typing on their smartphones, the others are talking loudly.
I turn to the other side, and I look outside the stained- glass window: I can see a middle-aged couple walking all wrapped up in two long and grey coats; the notary is sitting opposite me and he is carelessly looking at them.
I turn to the left again.
«So, did you recover from the discussion about lexical semantics? You looked rather pensive.»
«I was just thinking about the situation between the spouses. I told you anyhow that it is forbidden to talk about issue during our aperitif.»
«Okay, you are quite right» I grin.
«And thank you for being here with me, at the bar, waiting for the Bistrot.»
«Not at all: I am quite pleased. Talking about other clients then: I was just thinking today, while I was checking the share transfer on behalf of Anyauto...»
«Yes, Brando? What were you thinking?»
«I take it that the two funny guys did some work on your car; I mean, not on your Ferrari California, but on your old Porsche. Have I got it right?»
«Sure, Antonio and Ermes. My Porsche...» he says still looking at the street.
«I can mind my business, if you wish.»
«No, Brando, this is a valid question. There are no secrets.» It looks as if the notary is taking a few minutes to think it over. «The Ferrari California is beautiful, isn’t it? Do you like it, Brando?»
«Yes, sure: it is a Ferrari. Everybody likes it. I am not mad about the colour...»
«What’s wrong with the colour?»
«It’s red: Ferrari red. For me cars are only black and I just make a distinction between pastel black, metallic black and matt black.»
«Should I have got a black one?»
«I don’t know, notary. Usually, Ferrari cars are red. I would say that many experts would not tolerate a different colour. I don’t know the specific environment: there could be Ferrari enthusiasts that go around with Ferrari cars with the strangest colours.»
«In my opinion, a red Ferrari is a bit ordinary.»
«Ordinary... in your elitist bracket is very common, I think for sure.»
«That’s right» the notary replies. «I think that 95% of Ferrari cars sold are red.»
«Excuse me, but are you telling me that you don’t like the colour of your car?»
«It’s not just a matter of colour, it is just the car that I bloody hate!»
«You bloody hate it?» I ask, puzzled.
«Yes, I fucking hate it.»
«You fucking hate it?» I ask more and more puzzled.
«Here is your platter, gentlemen. I’ll leave it here for you» the waiter interrupts placing the wooden board in the middle of the table. «And your Franciacorta wine.»
«Thank you» we reply almost at the same time.
The waiter turns around and goes over to the table of the girls beside us, who keep on talking with their shrill voices.
The notary drinks some wine, puts the glass down and grabs a sliver of parmesan cheese. «Yes. I fucking hate it.»
«Right, I got it right then. I did not think you would harbour a grudge towards your car. How long have you been feeling that way towards it?»
«Since the first day I went to collect it at the car dealer.»
«Why, where did you buy it? You didn’t order it from the car factory? I thought that was the case for Ferrari cars.»
«I think this is the case for new cars. She was about four months when I bought it.»
«Anyway, if you chose it, it means that you liked it a bit.»
The notary drinks another sip of wine. «No, actually I have never thought of buying a Ferrari car in my life and it was the only one left in that car showroom where I went following the advice of one of my friends because I needed a car ready for delivery. There were a few Porsche cars and one Nissan GT-R: that was wonderful, orange with black rims.»
«Yes, magnificent» I reply looking at him. «Sorry, notary, and then? Why did you go for the Ferrari?»
«I needed to replace the other one quickly; then I was there with my wife, you know how these things go.»
«No, not really. Ultimately, did your wife prefer the Ferrari?»
«Of course, she said that it would have been more suitable for my age and that I did not have the right age to have an orange car, it was not appropriate for a serious professional.»
«I see. Nissan GT-R cars forever: as a matter of fact, I agree with your choice.»
The notary gulps down his glass of wine, looks at me and smiles.
«Actually, with your non-choice» I grin.
I empty my glass too. «Actually, I asked about your old Porsche» I try to say again. «It didn’t look that old to me: it was so cool in my opinion.»
«The
