My Journey with Farrah - Alana Stewart [21]
Today felt like that. It was a great time; two girlfriends hanging out together just like it used to be.
I’m so glad we didn’t leave today, even though we could have flown with the Simons on their plane. They would have gotten off in Indianapolis and sent us on to Los Angeles on the plane, which was incredibly generous of them, but Dr. Jacob felt Farrah wasn’t ready to travel yet. I agreed with her, but it was awfully tempting.
Tonight Dr. Jacob wanted to take us down to this Italian restaurant, Mimmo’s, which is supposed to be the best Italian food in the area and is practically across the street from the clinic. I got ready at the last minute and just threw on jeans with hardly any makeup, hoping to eat, get back to the clinic, and get into bed as soon as possible. It was a very charming, candle-lit restaurant, filled with attractive local people. It had the feel of a trattoria somewhere in the Italian countryside.
We were in the middle of our first course when the owner/ chef, Mimmo, came out to say hello to us. Hello, indeed. He was the cutest thing I’d seen in a long time, and certainly anywhere in Germany. Blond, blue-eyed, and gorgeous. He didn’t speak a word of English, but I managed to remember a little of my Italian, which duly impressed him. We were flirting with each other in Italian.
The minute he left the table, Farrah started doing these wicked impersonations of me, batting her eyelashes and mocking my lame Italian. We were laughing so hard. Mimmo kept coming back to the table and ended up ordering a round of after-dinner drinks and joining us.
Meanwhile, the restaurant had gotten quite warm and Farrah took off her sweater, leaving her thin T-shirt underneath.
“Are you trying to steal my man?” I teased. “Show-off!”
But Mimmo (probably because of my lame Italian) seemed quite taken with me. He was making plans to come to Los Angeles in November. He told us he was forty, which surprised me. I’d thought he was in his late twenties, so I was relieved not to be cradle-robbing. I was hoping he thought I was a lot younger than I am as well.
We finally said goodnight—Farrah practically had to pull me out of there because I was having so much fun, and she was having a great time making fun of me. Farrah liked Mimmo; she thought he was cute and sweet and he’d be good for me. Crazy. I came to Germany to help my friend fight cancer, and I might just have found a little romance.
September 25, 2007
Today was not such a good day. Farrah felt terrible, and so did I. I think it might have had something to do with the drinking last night. We were supposed to go back to Mimmo’s tonight with Dr. Jacob and Farrah’s good friends the Van Pattens, who had just arrived. But neither one of us felt like going. Farrah decided at the last minute that she really should go because she had told them she would. Farrah always tries to keep her commitments—even if she’s feeling under the weather. So we got ourselves together, and off we went.
I put in a little more effort than last night, since Mimmo would be there. He was thrilled to see us, and brought us all sorts of wonderful pastas to try. By the end of the evening he was affirming that he was definitely coming to Los Angeles to see me in “Noviembre.” I just kept laughing, batting my eyelashes, and saying “Va bene.” When we got outside, I said, “I wonder where he intends to stay?”
Dr. Jacob looked at me in amazement and said, “With you, Alana!” As if to say, “It’s pretty obvious, you nitwit.”
Yikes! What if he is serious? What will I do with a gorgeous Italian chef who doesn’t speak a word of English? And will he look as gorgeous when he arrives in L.A., probably in bad shoes and the wrong jeans? Guys sometimes just don’t seem as attractive