Two Vignettes

All this week in the piazza dei Gerani, there is a festival (la Festa de l'Unita Sinistra Giovanile, which is somewhere between a communist organization and a fascist one, by all accounts) at night with music until about midnight. If I lean out my window, I can see the trams and the tents, and I can definitely hear the music. On Monday night, the band was an 80s Italian punk tribute band. Yes, you read that right. 80s Italian punk tribute to the band Litfiba. Tuesday night, Patrick and I decided to investigate. There was a guy with an electric keyboard singing and another guy accompanying him on drums. When we got there, he started playing Do The Twist. He started singing the proper English lyrics, but predictably started throwing in the occasional Italian word until he was just singing random Italian phrases to the melody. But even that wasn't as hilarious as the people dancing. For some reason, there were only older Italians, and they were all line dancing. One lone woman was actually doing the twist. But her individualism was quickly halted by the line-dancing crowd. It was like the Electric Slide meets Cocoon. Tonight, there is a soft rock/oompah band that inexplicably played Mambo Number 5. And for those of you who want to know what kind of food Italians sell at street fairs: sausage, wurstel, grilled hamburgers, and all manner of suppli (fried appetizers, like french fries, rice balls, and stuffed olives).

Today I decided to go down to the discount grocery store to get salad fixings for dinner. I noticed this older man entering the store in front of me. He was about 65, kinda fat, and hunched over, and wearing these old baggy sweatpants. Kinda of creepy. An older woman walked by, and he proceeded to stare at her boobs. Great, creepy old Italian man. I got some tomatoes and noticed he was checking me out. Creepy old Italian man. As I was perusing the fruit, he turned to me and said, "This doesn't work. I can't get it open," and thrust his produce bag at me. I simply smiled, opened the bag, and gave it back. He was quite grateful, thanking me so profusely that I had to say, "You're welcome, it was nothing."

Italians are hilariously weird sometimes.


Chris Cameron said…
Oh man, did they have keytars? I'd kill to see an Italian 80s band with a keytar.
Anonymous said…
I don't know who this American Nationalist fellow is, but he has impeccable taste with the keytar thing.
Anonymous said…
Sadly, no keytar. It was more of a Casio thing with built-in background beats. It (or perhaps a CD player) was providing the bass guitar part. The keyboardist himself wasn't actually playing half the time. He kept throwing his hands in the air, as if in celebration of the creepy line dancing going on in front of him.

All told, even weirder than Dryden Dairy Day.
Anonymous said…
you guys are weird

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