Welcome to 2015, the first song playing on my iPod as I recount my first tale of the year here is Bitter, from the This Mortal Coil album, Blood, and for those back in the UK who think it’s all sunshine and red wine here, I’ll post you a photo of the snow we had earlier this month – needless to say it’s now gone and we’re back to red wine and sunshine.
So for my first post of 2015 I thought I’d tell you about a conversation that occurred a few days ago. I was shopping and spotted an English acquaintance, we passed the time of day and as we did so a woman in the queue at the till kept looking over at us.
My friend left and I took up my position in the till queue, which here in Italy usually means a long wait, I put my proposed purchases onto the floor at my feet, and am waiting when the woman who had been looking over turns and says to me, “ You speak very good English for a foreigner.”
“Thanks,” I replied a tad confused but too engrossed in the sign advertising a 20% discount on bucatini: I’m not tempted as its probably the only pasta that I dislike .
“Was it hard to learn?” I look up at her confused and reply with, “Not really, it sort of came naturally.”
She’s now at the front of the queue, her shopping is being scanned and tossed down to the bagging area to be retrieved and bagged by her friend, who has a look about her that reminds me of a spaniel that’s lost all of its toys. Before she pays, she turns and looks at me again and says, “Good for you, I’d have thought it was tricky, what with you being German.”
I look at my friend who is on the till, she mouths, ‘tedesco?’ meaning German? I shake my head and mouth back, ‘stupida’.
I don’t mind, but the woman in question had an accent that wouldn’t have sounded out of place on Birds of a Feather.