I received my first Italian male’s phone number. Is it bad taste to put names in blogs? Alesandro. A fifth year psychology student at a medical school. Or something very similar to that says my veeerrry broken Italian. He waits tables at an Enoteca in San Croce where I sought refuge from my attempt to walk the entire city today. I also got to turn down my first date invitation. Considering that I have now been awake for 33 hours, and look and feel like I have been run over by at least three tractor trailers, the thought of meeting at a stranger’s party to drink wine at midnight did not sound as appealing as I have a hunch it may sound tomorrow. Note to Kate: A shower after flying across the ocean is usually a good thing.
Buona Notte.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment