Buongiorno, Fabio!: I Can’t Believe You Won’t Give Me A MILLION DOLLARS!

July 1st, 2017

Buongiorno, Fabio! I’m Brianne.

Oh, Fabio, I am frightened to even write this, I shall admit it! What could I possibly say to make myself stand out from the hoards of chamber maids and healthy farm girls who must certainly write you? Like every other buxom, rosy cheeked wench in the kingdom, I have a whole list of things I want you to do to me, but the first thing I want you to do is grab your checkbook . . . and gently write me a check for ONE MILLION DOLLARS.

Yes, Fabio, it’s true! I desire your million, not your manroot.

My tender journey into debt began several lifetimes ago! I became depressed and embarked upon a tragic and doomed spree of shopping . . . for, um, three years. ‘Twas a golden time for me, I’ll not deny it! Perhaps inner beauty and tropical islands are what gets YOU hot, but for me it’s the soft mechanic whirring of a cash register! The turgid force of a powerful hand swipe, the electric static of a surging magnetic strip! The crisp cackle of a plastic Bic flying across a dotted line! Then at last, one bold word throbs across the screen in all its glowing green glory! A lush, lusty word I’ve never so much as heard YOU utter:

“APPROVED”!!!!


It burned within me, that word! Like a choir of angels, it called to me! Haunted me in the night! Beseeched me from my sleep, sent gauzy smoke signals to my fiery loins! “Marc Jacobs!” it whispered.  “Michael Kors! Gucci! Dolce and Gabbana!” Oh, my sweet Fabio! Nothing came between me and my Calvins!

My heart knows no credit limit!

I had never before been so satisfied, so thoroughly fulfilled! Some people turn to drugs, to alcohol, but for me, shopping was the escape! I spent violently and torridly, never daring to imagine that I may one day actually have to pay for everything I was charging! Oh, how stores adored me then! I was the bearer of massive commissions, a fervent flame among moths! Store clerks chirped my name in singsong when they glimpsed me on the horizon! They poured me wine, they ordered things special! They gave me sale prices when there were no sales!

Now those people won’t even talk to me. You know who talks to me now? Process servers. Process servers, debt collectors and bankruptcy agents.

Yes! It’s true! Something came between me and my Calvins.

***

You may not believe it, Fabio, but I am a very special lady. I may not be a supermodel or a movie star, but I did manage to run up nearly sixty grand in credit card debt and somehow I magically did so without any money at all! It was magnificent, they just kept sending me cards and sending me cards! As I burned through them one by one with my passions, they melted away like so much butter in my nimble fingers!

Then one day, I roused from my innocent slumber to sadly discover I was not APPROVED! anymore! It was cruel and quick, like being slapped in the face with a rogue goose! On a blazing chariot!

Alas! I may be a careless and over zealous shopper, but there is no evil in my heart! DEBT is not a crime! Had this been a trashy romance novel and not my life, the dashing Captain Rackham Beauregard should have sailed in with the sunset and his mighty fleet! His trusty crew would have been the Publisher’s Clearing House Prize Patrol, no doubt! Ready to whirl me to safety and ravage me with all the cake, balloons and money in the land!

(Shhhh. You have your fantasies and I’ll have mine!)

So who better to save me now than the one and only FABIO?

***

Oh, please, Fabio! Hear me out! Aren’t you known for saving women in peril? For whisking them from the tops of towers, for swinging them across gullies and caverns and babbling brooks? In a loin cloth? On a Tarzan vine?  For steering them lovingly to the safety of ship sterns and wagon wheels and unicorns? Rescuing them from death and defilement and debt collectors!

I suppose you think I’m very brazen and I just might be, but if only that were the end of my harrowing story! Everything I bought with those cards was subsequently destroyed in a devastating tropical cyclone that swelled in from the Atlantic! Hurricane Matthew wrought destruction on all of St. Augustine, taking with it half my roof and all my furniture, as well as all my designer bags and shoes! All that was left of my sixty thousand dollar credit adventure was a Silver Dapple Dachshund and a vintage wine barrel from the San Sebastian Winery!

I had to leave my home for six months to seek shelter in a neighboring village! I had escaped with only my life, but Capital One cared not! While I was away, they sued me! Though at that point, there was nothing left to sue me for and to be blunt, I had quite the laugh at Capital One~ what brutes! What swine! But henceforth! Rooms to Go cruelly stripped me of thousands of dollars and my dignity! Leaving me standing solo, swabbing the poopdeck as though I were NOTHING!

Nothing. Nothing. NOTHING.

Yet all this is glorious, Fabio! Don’t you see? All of it brought me to YOU! If it weren’t for Chase and Slate and Visa, I would not be writing you today! Oh, sex god of sex gods! Hero of my heart! It must be so tiresome, all those those women who only want you for your biceps! Your burly body of brawn and steel, but NOT ME!

It’s your cash I long for! Not your cutlass!

Fabio! I implore you! Help me, my star of stars! My lone viking, my cherub sun! I stand before you on the metaphorical mizzen mast, humbly asking you to share your wealth with a destitute, down and out poet! Imitation butter runs amok in your world! Surely the spices of old have left you copious and bounteous, thanks be to lonely housewives of the nineties! Ah me! I would never ask if I did not think you had it to spare! If I did not think you had a million dollars just lying around, waiting for some just and worthy cause to present itself!

Oh, King of Romance! I AM that cause! A million dollars may not bring love or happiness, but it would sure make Citifinancial’s day! Visa will shout cries of happiness from the moon! MasterCard will erect a statue in your honor! When you give me that million dollars, I can pay everyone everything I owe them! Then all the fair maidens and trannies around the globe can finally appreciate you for what’s in your heart, as well as what hides behind your breeches! Fabio, my beloved! It’s up to YOU! The time has come to be noble!

Really, Fabio. It’s the least you can do after not responding when I invited you to my junior prom!

Oh, please say yes!

YES! YES! YES!

Thank you, Fabio. I shiver coldly with fires of eagerness awaiting your magnanimous reply!

Yours Always,

Brianne Sloan

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2 Responses to Buongiorno, Fabio!: I Can’t Believe You Won’t Give Me A MILLION DOLLARS!

  1. David George says:

    You are certifiable but we love you just the same lol

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