Yet there's no better drug than being in a foreign land. If you know a better aphrodisiac than travel, I commend you. Tonight, and perhaps for the rest of the journey, I decided I was going to be Moll Flanders. In real life, there are explanations to be given, consequences to be endured. But traveling is not real life.
All bets are off.
I thought about my friend Carol who, on the eve of her trip to Italy, was told by the guy she'd been seeing that he was going to start dating other people. Great, she said through a clenched smile. Once in Rome, she stood on a streetcorner looking at a map, looking around quizically, and it wasn't long until Luigi zipped up on his moped and offered assistance in finding the Spanish Steps. He kept wanting to do it up the ass. Supposedly it's an Italian thing, so the girls can stay virgins.