Love Files

It’s nice to know, St. Valentine did exist, and the day isn’t just a Hallmark holiday.

And he was a priest no less, associated with courtly love, bringing up a sea of reminiscence.

There was the chef who, rather than flowers, brought me bouquets of mint and dill.  Was I nuts about him, as much as any girl of 18 can be nuts about anyone. It didn’t last though, those long lunch shifts, interfering with sex and sex, and, did I mention sex? But even now, when the smell of mint wafts my way, one can still get damp between her pots and pans.

We had the Englishman, when finding out I didn’t own a TV, bought me one, carrying it up 5 flights of stairs. He was rich and famous (now, now, I never kiss and tell), sweet, sexy, generous and married, but that was in my 30s.

We’ve grown up since then.

Can’t forget the male model who liked wearing my pajamas, a plumber, one could say, unstopped my drain, an investment banker, a dentist, a drunken dress designer, and there was that gambler who played a helluva game of Liar’s poker.

If only I had known.

I’d be remiss not mentioning my musicians that, if we had a reunion, would make up an entire symphony orchestra.

I’ve always been musical, what can I say.

Toss in a fireman, felon, cop and a soldier because, even now, she’s still dazzled by any man in uniform, including a Police Dog named Skippy.

We’ll end with Bill, my romantic from Texas whose boots I can still hear clicking on the parquet floor, who’d write me love letters laced with lust leaving me puffing and panting in an impassioned swoon, I wish could repeat itself, like a carnal chorus.

I wish…I so wish.

Valentine’s Day, 2018      


About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Thanks.
This entry was posted in Cinema, comedy, Connecticut, History, humanity, humor, Love, sex, sexual relationships, Women and men, words, writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to Love Files

  1. Rubenstein, Hal says:

    A real hoot ! Great stories !


    Liked by 1 person

  2. My, my…I need a firehose to cool me off after that one!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Mint and dill, that’s a novel idea for a bouquet. Still, smell is connected most with memory so it’s a good way never to be forgotten. Happy Valentine’s Day. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. skinnyuz2b says:

    Susannah, I didn’t meet my Pookie-Pie until I was 28. I don’t regret settling down at such a ‘late’ age. As much as I love my soulmate, those single years were a blast. Yes, there were tears and angst, but also lots of great memories.
    As Willie Nelson so aptly sang, “Here’s to all the girls (guys) I’ve loved …”

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Ah, the memory of young love can certainly go a long way on this rainy morning.


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