First Story

 

I always wanted to be a storyteller, someone who enchants people with their talking and writing, someone who makes people laugh because of unique jokes. But always when I started to tell a story, I forgot half of it, got lost along the way, couldn't find any pointe, got back to the beginning to explain myself and in the end everybody who listened to me didn't understand a word  and looked confused and I was the weird one... Like always... so I got frustrated and stopped the storytelling. I got mute because of fear for embarassing myself

People told me that my voice is my superpower... so I started to do deep healing work of my throat Chakra, energycenter of communication and expression. I started to sing, to communicate with open heart and to play instruments. And, to tell stories.

I worked in a Ski Resort in the french alps for a famous french jewelrybrand. A ski resort where the richest people spent their winter Holiday, people like the Rothshild family, Leonardo DiCaprio, rich russian Mafiosi and lots of superbillionaire sheikhs.

Here is the very first story I am really good in telling because it was a real adventure and my boss in those times loved the story and made me tell it very often to our clients, and it goes a little something like this:

One day my boss called me and asked: 'Gioia, would you like to travel to Milano and give this ring to this monsieur?

I think you are good for the job, you speak italian and I trust you.' 

'Of course Mister I would love to do this!' I answered and I knew he wanted to economize some taxes.

'Good so tomorrow early in the morning you will take the train. Here is my credit card for anything you need on the road and here is the ring.' he handed me the jewel.

The ring was amazing! A big diamond in so called Marquise shape. Cut, carat and clarity was top, it "only" cost 480.000 Euros. And it was even my size! You can imagine that I was fantasizing about running away, buying a flightticket to Hawaii with the credit card of my boss and sell the jewel. But where? on ebay? not really... and that bad karma...!

So I decided to simply do the job.

The next day I woke up early in the morning, put the ring in my bra (I learned this when I was dealing with drugs) took my little bag and went to the busstop to go down the mountain to take the train. I realized it was too early for the bus. It was still dark and there were no people on the streets except a police man in his car. I went towards him and asked him for a ride. He was friendly, replyed "avec plaisir" and drove me down the mountain to the trainstation. It felt awkward to be in a policeofficer's car, I somehow felt that this was a weird beginning for this adventure.

In the train I sat down and observed people, as 5 people were running up and down the train's corridor. They were all wearing an armlet, I couldn't quite get what was written on it. I tried to decipher it.. "dou...something"

They suddenly stopped in front of me and the leader of these 5 person, a woman, asked me:

"Do you have more than 10.000 euros with you?"

I answered "No"

she continued: "where are you going?"

"To Milano" I answered. 

"What will you do there?"

" I will visit a friend" I replied

"Where is your luggage?"

"I just have this little backpack with me"

She looked deep into my eyes and asked "May  I see what is inside there?" I was totally confused and felt lost, so I answered "of course...". The lady opened my backpack and saw the little, empty box with the jewelry's brand on it and the bag for the box of the same brand... She gazed at me for some moments, didn't say a word and continued checking my little backpack. My tobacco! She took it, opened it aaaand found a little, tiney piece of weed! Sh*t, I forgot totally about it! The Douane woman (it was clearly to see that douane was written on their armlet, later on I found out it means customs) took my tobacco bag and said in an imperative tone "please come with me" I stood up from my seat and was dying inside, shaking on the outside.

"It is over for me" I thought to myself while walking behind her direction toilet. I know how police searches for drugs. You stand with  your legs apart hands up high, face to the wall and they touch first the external sides of the body then the legs etc. "She will feel the big thing in my bra... "

We went into the train's toilet, the douane lady took the weed out of the tobacco bag and asked me intensly: "Is this everything you have with you and on you?" "Madame, yes, this is everything! I was at the lake yesterday and someone gave me this to relax a little, I ususally don't smoke." I was studdering nervously.

She took the weed, flushed it down the toilet and comanded "You can go back to your seat now".

My pulse was on 180. I couldn't believe what just happened. Weed saved me? from jail? I went back to the seat and pretended to sleep while my heart was bumping so fast that it nearly blew up my chest. I stayed with my eyes closed, to not have any eye contact with anybody until I arrived in Milano. The rest of the trip went alright.

Back in french alps, at work, I told my boss the whole story, he seemed to be so entertained. "Cette equipe!" was his surprised and amused reaction. He let me tell the story every time an important customer came.

What a trip, what a life! What a story!

 

 

 

Contact

Gioia Gulleri

Sardinia

Italy

 

Email: 

gioiagulleri@gmail.com

 

 

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