Random Stories

In Which an Italian Man Eats Out of My Hand:

Alright, let me explain. So, it's our first night in Rome and all 20 of us meander over to get the BEST gelato in the city. We finally make it through all of the hustle and bustle of trying to order flavors (whose Italian names are hard to pronounce!) and make it outside to enjoy our three-scoop cones. As I am licking off some of the creme on the top of my cone, it just slides right off and begins to fall. For once I had pretty quick reflexes and caught the glob of creme in my hand. Now what do I do?? The Italian waiter behind me, who watched this happen, laughed at me and made gestures to tell me to lick it off my hand. Before I could do so, he decided it would be funny to take my hand and pretend to eat it himself....then proceeded to smash my own hand full of creme in my face. I couldn't believe it! It was pretty funny though, and he did help me get a napkin to clean myself off. People told me to watch out for those Italian men, but little did I know.... 

In Which I Get Engulfed by a Group of Italian Boys:  

One sunny afternoon, Holly, Alyssa, and I are walking back from Lucanda's after lunch. On our way to class at the Palazzo, we approach a large gathering of Italians (mostly boys) trying to take a group picture. As we walk past, one Italian boy walks towards me and says, "Photo?", making hand motions like he wanted me to take the picture for them. This was not what he wanted, but I didn't know that. SO I said, "Oh, take a photo for you?" He shakes his head...."No, with YOU." I laugh, feeling slightly awkward, and tell him no, no, we're late for class. But this guy was determined. He pulled my arm and before I knew it I was being engulfed by a huge group of Italian boys, with me in the middle. The blonde American sticking out like a sore thumb. And guess what? Remember my "friends" Holly and Alyssa? They just stood there, doubled over laughing at my plight. I was laughing too, though, and I'm pretty sure we laughed all the way back to the Palazzo, asking ourselves if that really just happened. Yes, it did. 

In Which My Roomates and I Eat Falafel and Feel Sick:

First of all, I have the most wonderful roommates: Heather & Claire. Unfortunately this wasn't such a wonderful experience together, but we bonded anyways. It was a Sunday afternoon and we had been walking up and down the main road just trying to find an open grocery store or market for our lunch. No such luck. So we got desperate, our hunger took over and we stopped at this place that makes falafels. We thought it would be fun to try some non-Italian food for a change. The three of us order what we thought would be a normal falafel, but it turns out we ordered fal-AWFUL. Their rendition of the falafel was this weird chick-pea patty, slathered in what looked like ranch dressing, jumbled up in century-old lettuce, and hey, why not throw in a couple french fries and call it a wrap! WHAT?? Claire and I exchanged glances of horror while the man was making our wraps. "Uhmm, do you think it's too late to cancel my order?" I should've gone with that option. Instead, we ate it. AHHH. Instant regret. We walked away saying things like, "Never again" and "Why did we do that??" and "What did we just eat?? French fries in a wrap??" We got some espresso to wash away the taste, and felt a bit better. I still cringe when I walk past that place. Moral of the story: While in Italy, stick to Italian food. 

In Which We Bring the Living Room to the Terrace:

 

It was a bright, sunny day in Orvieto. It was one of those days where we spend the entire afternoon on the terrace. Some of the girls in my apartment decided that the terrace would be even better if it had more comfortable seating. So, Claire carried one of the big chairs from the living room out for some reading. Naturally, this idea caught on and Emily and I dragged our chairs outside too. Mine is the old armchair, that it probably not supposed to be outside because it's a priceless heirloom. But I was careful. We propped our feet up and read for the afternoon. I enjoyed getting lost in Jane Austen's wonderful story of Sense & Sensibility. I left my chair only to get gelato and come back. It was a good day.