Fuss at da Felice

Not much to report today. It has gotten a bit cold and gray here. It is well into November now.

I had some work to accomplish – which will be tomorrow’s project as well. And since I had been to the grocery twice yesterday I didn’t have much of an excuse to go out. Plus, it was moving day for me. Since I’ve been back from Rome, I’ve been in a different apartment – same complex – until the other one opened back up again. And that was today in the late afternoon.

Really, I had barely unpacked from Rome knowing I was moving again in less than a week. So I worked as much as I could stand it and got all packed up to transfer around the corner. Paola came and helped me with my bags and we both exclaimed that I am never going to get home with all this stuff! I thought I was a bad packrat at home, but the trait has followed me clear to Italy. I simply do not know where all this “stuff” comes from!

And groceries! Lordy sakes, my daughter always says I have more in my fridge than she does for a family of five. And when I bagged up my fridge today it was true. I really don’t have to go out for anything! Except I need to walk…

So, once I got moved over this evening, I got situated and then had to go out. My feet just need to go now. And even though I have plenty of food, a slice of da Felice pizza sounded mighty good. I tell ya, this place has cornered the market on fast slices of pizza. And what a deal…

It was standing room only, as usual, but I wedged my way in and ordered one slice and small glass of red wine. The pizza was 1.20 euro and the wine 2.20 euro more. And when I say slice of pizza, I mean one-fourth of a pie. They slice it off, hot out of the oven, cut it in two, and weigh it for price.

There happened to be a table next to the wall open, so I slid in. Wow oh wow is this pizza good. And soon a gorgeous Italian girl said “(something, something) senora?” I smiled and motioned for her to sit down. She tossed back her dark locks and focused on her pizza.

In just a moment, her handsome boyfriend joined us. He took the seat on the side but was very, very animated. He sat his pizza down and began a rambling italian dialog with the girl I couldn’t make out a word of. He was gesturing and pleading and looking at me out of the corner of his eye every 10 seconds.

I kept my head down and ate my pizza. So did the girl. She acted like he wasn’t even there. Still he went on and on, talking and gesturing and not taking a bite. Finally he got quiet and began to eat his pizza.

It was silent while he ate his slices. The girl ate one of hers and after one bite of the second piece she made a disgusted look and set her pizza on his plate. He let out a heavy sigh, but he ate that slice as well. Neither one said another word.

When the guy got up to leave he looked at me and said “buona sera” – which I said back in return. He left the room and the girl took her time putting on her black leather jacket over her Yves St Laurent belt and Gucci purse. She flipped her dark hair back again and walked out past the man without a backward glance. He followed her like a stray pup.

I have no idea what transpired. I have no idea how beautiful women lead such men around the way they do. But that was the fuss at da Felice this evening.

As for me, I still needed to walk so I went farther up Filungo to the art store and got a new .01 waterproof black pen for sketching. The one I have is shot. And I don’t have a handsome man to abuse over every little thing, so a new 2 euro pen will have to do…

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