Pizza and Shakespeare

Kamila. Oh Kamila, many songs will be sung for your heart. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen was Kamila. I mean she was well bell beyond want able, just listening to her tell me she had to “grow down” so she could walk next to me was endearing. She was well beyond 6 ft. (1.9m) and was probably a 36DD with an amazing figure and a butt you could bounce a 50kc coin on. She was such a traffic risk that I think that the city of Prague should have provided her a private car. She is a reasonable girl and usually rode the trams and metro black. So I would have probably been saving her a couple of bucks by the private car after some of the MHD fines. Even by her own admission, sometimes she has a special way of “paying her fines” to the MHD ticket maids.

It was Christmas time when I called her. I remembered that she said that she was going to go to the mountains around Christmas. I did not want to miss her. We decided to meet at the tram stop at Narodní Třida. She stepped off the tram in blue jeans and a long coat. Her dark hair was bound with the cutest little butterfly clips. She is so adorable and sweet; it is hard to think that a curmudgeon like me could be going to dinner with her. I can not remember her wearing makeup and I think that made her seem prettier. I am not kidding; she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She is as pretty as Elle or Claudia on their best days, but I have never met them.

She hopped off the tram like a six-foot, supermodel bunny. She saw me immediately and walked right over to me and kissed my forehead. Give me a break; she is six inches (15cm) taller than me. The fact that she thought enough to give me a kiss in the first place made me more than happy to accept. I asked her where she wanted to go for dinner. “Pizza”, she replied. Last time we had gone for “Italian”, which in Czech means “pizza”. She was surprised when I ordered oso bucco, and she ordered Hawaiian pizza.

Her accent made her English sound so exotic, even if she was not really answering the question. I told her pizza was not a where, but a what.

“Yes, yes. It I know. Do you know the Blue Garden?”

“Modra Zahrada?”

“Yes, yes, Very good Czech.”

“Diky”, I replied. At this time I did not know enough Czech to get myself out of a ten percent tip. That was settled, and we started walking toward the restaurant. I felt kind of dumb carrying a book in my hand. We walked into to the restaurant and up the stairs. There were few places to sit upstairs, but we found one in the middle of the room to the right side of the stairs. I can remember it like it was yesterday. She and I were talking about my life in Prague. She was awesome; she was looking out for me. She was making sure I knew where the drug store was and or if I knew the word. Rather than trying to hold her unwrapped Christmas present in secret, I decided to give it to her right then.

It was a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets in Czech and English. One page was in English and the opposite was in Czech. She had a salad and I had pizza. She said that she had pizza the day before and she needed to eat better. I guess some Czech people eat better than the fried cheese and tartar sauce of normal Czech fare would suggest. We had a great dinner that night, just reading from that book. She is a lovely girl, shame I only saw her a few other times. I guess my present was to have a great evening with her. In Czech, it is all about the little things.