« Highland island | Main | More required reading »
March 28, 2005
Italia
In the span of my last post, I have navigated myself through the British Isles via London, towards Paris, up the Eiffel Tower, through the Louvre, down to Aix-en-Provence, towards the French Riveira, overnighting to Rome, and now train-waiting for Florence.
AN INTRODUCTION TO ROME
After our first day in Rome, we returned to what we thought would be our hostel. (In all honesty, nothing more than a glorified internet kiosk.) So, the Italian man behind the desk told us that they had overbooked for the night, and we would be staying with a friend named Franco, five to ten minutes away. The reality of getting into a car with a total stranger on a shady side street of Rome - well, I was excited. I thought I was going to wake up a day later in a hotel bathtub full of ice, one less kidney to my account and an incision stitched up with peppermint dental floss. Twenty minutes later, Franco shows up in late 80s model hatchback. We stayed above 'Franco's Bar,' which in my observation never had any customers. Nevertheless, we were given a two-bedroom apartment with sheets, bedside tables and a bathtub with a seat in eat (obviously to make it easier for my kidney to be removed, I thought). All in all, it turned out OK. Franco dressed with the photojournalists vest on perpetually, and he always smelled like ass. But Franco is a good guy. He makes an amazing cappucino. When in Rome, do what the Romans should be doing, stay with Franco.
AN INTRODUCTION TO AMERICA
An hour ago, I was standing at a street vendor's stand, hoping to grab a Panini. Three high school-aged Dutch kids were standing in line in front of me. They kept trying to speak Italian - which obviously they were incapable of - personally, the pointed finger complemented by broken English works perfectly fine for me. Either way, they were trying to tell the guy what type of gelato they wanted in Italian (though the flavors were listed in English, which Im sure they understood). Sure, they were taking up a long time, but mainly to improve their conversation Italian. I can understand that, so I waited patiently behind them. As the second kid was trying to pay, All-American Dad - with the beige polo shirt, crew cut hair and family backpack on, - not to much the family of four with him, noisily walks up behind me. No sooner than I had heard him step up behind me, he was announcing (from the back of the line), "All right, who is in line here?" Then, he precedes to walk up to front of the line, steps in front of the Dutch kids, and pretty much yells at the Pakistani vendor, "ONE WATER," parading a five euro note. The vendor serves him. He gets his water, and as he is walking past us in line, he says, "Three dollars for this, I can't believe it." As he walked past me, I kinda halfway muttered, "ASSHOLE!" in his direction, but he didn't hear me. Now, I'm pretty sure why everyone hates America.
Posted by houch at March 28, 2005 12:55 PM
Comments
I've been saying for years that after going to Europe, I understand the world's distaste for Americans, but everyone keeps saying, "Oh, Lou, you're a commie" or "Why don't you just move to Canada".
Posted by: Lou at March 28, 2005 03:54 PM
Palmer, that's when you should have practiced some good old American assertiveness combined with Southern etiquette and told the guy he was being rude, told him to move to the back of the line, and told him that if he had a problem with it you would be happy to discuss it elsewhere outside the company of the women and children.
And I tell you what, that Indian guy who runs the copy shop on the square is a real prick; therefore, I hate India. (Not really; I'm making a point.) That's basically the same reasoning you're talking about.
Posted by: Charles at March 28, 2005 09:36 PM
But, you are communist, Lou.
Charles, I lack American assertiveness. I have girly prudishness and cynical backassness. Does that count? I mean, if linestanding was some European invention like the bulee (sp.), pain au lait or peace, I wouldn't give the guy any grief. I only disparage because I like to feel superior. Would it make you feel any better if I said most French restaurant workers are painfully rude? Because they are.
Posted by: Houch at March 28, 2005 09:54 PM
glad to know you're alive. henceforth, i shall be a faithful reader.
love; and i enjoyed the kerouac quote.
Posted by: jimmy j at March 30, 2005 04:18 AM
a very friendly site. have a nice day! thins that excited you at 14: http://www.bethedealer.com , my parents didnt told me about it
Posted by: ian carpenter at October 12, 2005 01:54 AM
linestanding was some European invention like the bulee (sp.), pain au lait or peace, I wouldn't give the guy any grief. I only disparage because I like to feel superior. Would
Posted by: Buy soma at January 2, 2006 07:24 PM