1 Limoncello, 2 Limoncello, 3 Limoncello, Floor Limoncello!

Posted on April 6, 2011


Dear Dessert Wednesday,

Again, I ate before he came to get me. Again, I was unsure if we were going out. Again, it is Wednesday and it is his only day off and he calls right after we finish dinner. When he comes to get me he tells me to just plan on going to eat every Wednesday, it is no longer a question. He stated a fact. He wants to sit outside since it is a gorgeous night. Not possible. It was packed with people and the wait for outside would be over a half hour. Mickey, his “son” and I take a table inside. This place was super cute and loaded with people. It was actually where his son works so we got special attention. I met a few people and was introduced as his girlfriend. Still surprises me. I think since I only see him once or twice a week it still feels very new. I am not bored with him one bit. His son pops the bottle of prosecco and we cheers. I don’t think that either wanted it but I had to have it and prosecco went with my dessert. He ordered me some gelato with fresh  pineapple. The presentation was interesting and I said that I liked it and thought it was pretty. At his work, he sneeringly tells me, is much better. He can tell me anything, even with that little attitude and I don’t care. Looking into his green eyes I get lost. I have to look away during our conversation just so that I actually hear what he is saying, instead of staring at him. He is wearing a dark green polo and his eyes look fiercely green and it is an enormous distraction. My concentration strays to a cute 5 month old baby at the table next to us. The baby smiles a toothless smile at me and his little eyes sparkle. Our conversation changes to children and he coos when the baby smiles at him. “And you want to make three of these?” he questions me with a slight nod to the child. “Yeah..about that…lately I am thinking that I really just want girls. No boys anymore.” His eyes ask why and I tell him a short story about how dirty the boys get and he tells me that it is normal. Just because something is normal does not mean that I have to like it. The boys start with some bruschetta and the waiter brings some mini fried pizzas. They look like donuts with a splash of sauce and then fresh parmesan. I try one and it tastes exactly how it looks. Delightful. Sweet and salty. Once we finish with dinner our waiter brings us each a limoncello shot. We cheers to him and he takes one with us. Watching this crazy waiter reminds me of the waitress that I used to be. I think that I miss working and being around people. My “job” here does not require much socializing with strangers. Once the cool sweet lemon liquid hits my lips I think of Old School. “It’s so good! Once it hits your lips!” Instantly I want another but don’t say. His son sees the satisfaction in my reaction and asks if we should do another. Hell yes! We got a little carried away, on the way out from the restaurant we said goodbye passing the bar. And had two more. Grande. I felt a little buzz creeping in and I knew that in less than one hour the booze would take full effect. Sadly, my drinking tolerance is very low. After the prosecco this brought my drink total to 6 drinks. After dinner we had more bubbly so I think it was near 8. Later, I spilled the bottle of bubbly and then slipped in it. I would have failed a sobriety test in that moment. His son wanted to stay out with some girls but had run out of money. He asked Papa Mickey for a 10 and he didn’t have it. I told him that I did and handed him a 20. He is good for it. And if he is not, at least his “father” will cover his ass. The same two girls that were sitting in the corner were we ate were with him and we couldn’t send him off without drink money with these ladies could we? I arrive home past 2 am. I kick off my high-heeled boots and sneak into the house. Once I change and am ready for bed I went to my purse to get my phone. Shit! I realize that after I let Mickey use mine I left it in the car. Damnit. Nothing I can do now so I allow myself some deep drunken sleep and deal with it when I wake up.

Earlier in the day when I went to pick up the boys from school I noticed that Tommaso had his shoes on the wrong feet. I ask him about it and he does not answer or care. I think about changing them for him right there on the school ground but decide against it. Soon as we get home I change his shoes so no need to do so twice. Who knows how long that he has had them like that so he’s fine. Tommaso runs into his friend on our way out and they stop to trade some of the famous soccer cards. Tommaso has a huge clear plastic case of them and the other kid has a neat stack secured with a rubber band. This can take hours in boy time. The kid’s mother (maybe nanny/cousin/sister) asks if they can just take them home and bring them back tomorrow. Please do. So glad that not only I can understand Italian (for the most part) but can respond when it is necessary.

In the morning I spent time giving myself a pedicure while watching Sex and the City in Italian. I did my brows and scrubbed my face. Once my toes were ready for paint I realized that I didn’t have a color that I wanted. Pink is what I want. Strange…I know. Lexie wants pink? What is happening to her?? I put clear and hope to find a pink polish today at the store. T left me a list and a 20 to go the supermercato. I got everything on the list plus some bananas and cereal and my total was 20,98. Of course it is. I did not have any coins. I only brought another twenty in my back pocket so I didn’t have to carry my purse. The cashiers hate when you do this. I swear with all the coins they always expect the exact amount. There really are a handful of coins here. Some worth 1, 2, 5, 10, 20, 50 and then 1 euro and a coin worth 2 euro. The cashier rudely hands me a 10, and a 5 and three coins. Two worth 2 euro and the tiny one worth 2 cents.


Posted in: When in Rome