- I’m in the check- out line at Standa (our local supermarket) and a Gorgeous Cashier – so beautiful she even looked stunning in her dowdy Standa uniform – opens up to accommodate the line (they do that here!) She calls me over and as I approach two boxes of Pampers come flying over my head and land on the belt in front of me. A respectable Roman Matron, Mouse-Spouse in tow, pushes her way in front of me; Matron chimes “Scuzi” and proceeds to pay for her purchase. I glare; several people behind mutter; Matron concludes her transaction, strides off; Mouse-Spouse grabs the Pampers and dutifully follows. Gorgeous Cashier shrugs her lovely shoulders, says “Scuzi” and smiles. What could I do? I smiled backed! Hey, I’m gay not dead!
- At an Overseas University Recruitment Fair in Calabria, my friend Betty Jean is explaining the benefits of studying abroad to a very attentive nineteen-year old boy. When she finishes her spiel, he thinks for a minute, and then says – in total disbelief that anyone would think he should do such a thing: But that means I would have to leave my mother!
- Our address is Via Asmara 9B; unfortunately the Tunisian Embassy is 9Bis and cab drivers often confuse the two. Our driver the other night was most offended that he had waited for a full minute before realizing his mistake and proceeded to chastise us for the poor numbering system on our street. Since he’s paid from the time he leaves the taxi stand I’m not sure what his problem was, other than he was getting additional fare for going nowhere.
*Speaking of this and that
12 agosto – San Ercolano