I state that a year ago, maybe more, a self-styled friend (no longer in the phonebook, who knows why) gave me a subscription to “zed horoscope” on the phone.
Now, in addition to reacting with a “WhoHasAskedToYou” and thinking that some people would really need to mind their business, I’ve had to take it because I don’t know how take it off, and several phone calls to the phone company and zed are not earned anything yet … but that’s not all: the self-styled friend (LliMortacciSua)[1] has subscribed not to a general horoscope: no! to the “love” one.
So punctual as pinches of mosquitoes in summer and chicken broth in the winter, every morning at 9:00 I get a text message that recommends what to do if I am “in pairs” or “unpaired”. Honestly I never looked it, just sometimes to 
understand how to remove it, but a couple of months ago at 9:00 I get two text messages, so in opening I have read the horoscope’s pap that says: it will be a lucky day today, get out, the man of your life is on the street corner.
Now, specified that I don’t want “the man of my life” ‘cause makes me feel a little dungeon as a definition, but … I also would find him on the street corner? who is he, a tramp? a maniac with a knife? He will steal from me and then will born a beautiful love story to tell my grandchildren?
No, I don’t go out. Who never knows.
The next morning, I read it again, ahimé, and it said: don’t do as you always do, throw yourself! love is out there.
To which I felt pity and I’ve thought of this poor soul alias “TheManOfMyLife” who has spent the night on the street corner, under the cold and the rain, just because I wasn’t go out the day before. Yes because the horoscope says that he is still “out there”. Which then also disquieted me: oh my God he is a stalker!
So while I not “throw” (the window), since in any case I had to go out, I restored, high heels and red mouth I leave home, but on the corner there is only a shabby cat (ok, no jokes about spinsters). I go where I have to go, mark my corners, meeting people I supposed to meet, but TheManOfMyLife has to be shy because I have not seen him anywhere.
What a pity!
The third morning, the horoscope said: today dreary day.
Nooooo, TheManOfMyLife gave up, I thought, or for the reason that I have not thrown to the ground and splattered there, I didn’t met him because he maybe was a paramedic! Strength of this hypothesis and the fact that “dreary day” I got off to lob the garbage dressed as a gypsy just landed in Lampedusa, with the bun and the ciavatte [ugly slippers], of the series manco li morti [typical roman sentence that means: dressed like that nobody will fuck you, even the dead]!!
On the street corner (I swear!) a guy smokes, I CauseImPrettyBlind I did not recognise him immediately, and with the grace that distinguishes me I threw the trash, and I was going to go home when the guy calls me .. . in addition to having made a jump like Sylvester the cat 
, with my heart that went out and walked around before to came back, I freeze in that place, oggosh!
Undecided whether to run in zealous steps pretending to haven’t hear or speak with a fake Romanian accent of the series “no you’re wrong she is not me,” I waste time and he is come closer, smiles, making faint all the old hags facing the window to spy on
him and he tells me “is a lifetime that we don’t meet each other, do you live here”?
“nooooooooooooooooooooo, don’t you see I’m dressed as a gypsy? I work here, I play theatre!!… theatre for … the children, I am the evil witch”
He pretend to believe me, because he is a treasure as there are no longer around, and laughs and tells me “good luck for the show, and call me sometimes“
And so, the most good-looking guy in high school (which for the record I hadn’t seen since then and he is grow up pretty well) goes away from the street corner, rise on his motorcycle (obvious ) and disappear, and I stay there thinking two things:
1- I’ve not got his number so as I should call him with pigeons ??? Morse signals ????
2- FUCKTHEHOROSCOPEANDWHOGAVESITTOME
n.d.A.
Two months after this episode, I have met the abovementioned guy on the subway, and being dressed much better he left me his number and asked for a date.
We dating for three months at the end of which I realised that not only he was not TheManOfMyLife at all! but we were on different planets! the day I broke the heart of my SoulmateForZedAndNooneelse, the phone operator wrote me that it had finally solved and cancelled the subscription to the horoscope.
Coincidence?
[1] I am very sorry, this is untranslatable, in Rome we use to say it all the time, simply as an (obscene) interjection, so not necessarily directed at a person.
For example, you drop a glass on the ground: Mortacci (tua/sua/vostra)…!!
In that case, it could be anything from “Son of a bitch!” to “Fucking hell” and anything in between and beyond.
