Another interesting night at the post office.

Buona sera
I thought it might be a good idea to head off to the post office as it was Friday night and who on earth wanted to be there.  Much to my amazement I was right...it was empty.  Open but empty.  So I went to the lovely brunette behind the gift counter to ask her if this post office sold health insurance.  She read my little translation that I had previously scribbled on a piece of paper and threw her arms up in the air and said "oh no!".  Please God tell me that this will be an easy process!  She took my paper and went to some booth across the post office motioning me to stay where I was until her return.  Italians talk loudly as I could hear them.  She comes briskly back and proceeds to tell me in broken English that I need a 'Conto Corente".  What the heck was that.  Sounds like a brand name of condoms or something.  Anyhow what it is was a special number that the school was to provide.  I pulled out my school letter and no where on there did it indicate any Conto Corente.  Something to do with I.N.A. Assiscurazione which I presume would be an insurance carrier.  She assured me that once I have the number I could come back to the post office and they would mail something...god knows what to the insurance company and hopefully that will be the last thing I need for the residency.  Whew!  When I finally obtain this document I need..this permisso di son giorno...I will have conquered a mountain.  Just think...I will be able to do anything!

After the post office I decided to go to the bedding place across the street because my colleague told me she bought a mattress topper there.  My bed is so uncomfortable and the two folded duvets are not cutting it anymore.  The store is beautiful and the linens are expensive and good quality.  I found a box with those Ikea type slippers and thought it would be great to get a pair of lime green to match my lime green striped sofa.  My old blue ikea pair were worn down at the heels and I find these tile floors hard on the feet.  Especially my pretty little ballerina feet.  Well the slippers didn't quite fit...if I cut out the toes maybe.  Italian women have small feet.  Will have to check the market tomorrow but in the mean time I have some cushions under my feet.  So where was I ..oh yes the linen place it looks like is run by two old men.  Unless you ask you could walk around looking at bed linen all night.  After this one fellow was done with a customer I asked, firstly if he spoke Englese ('a little'), about a pillow mattress topper that I saw in the back on a display stand.  He indicated it was 100 euros and I said I'll take it.  So he pulled it off and took it to the front of the store.  In my mind I was thinking..is that the last one...is he giving me something that people have laid on and tried out?  Given he spoke such little English, I asked him if he had a mattress cover so I could put on top of it.  He looked at me as if I was on crack.  I said nevermind, paid my bill and took my new possessions home.   I got the sense that this man was weary of foreigners or may have just had a long day.  Or maybe it was my running shoes.


At this point I decided I wanted to cook chicken so the only supermarket that I remembered had chicken was the one I went to down by the Duomo.  I looked for the art store that I had been to on Monday with my colleauges and could not find it.  Instead I landed upon a wine store which sold high end type wines.  Maximo and Alessandro were happy to help the signora...that is me.  I obtained a lesson on the different wines pertaining to different areas of Italy.  In Tuscany you have either Chianti or Brunello.  They could have told me anything and I would have believed them.  Max, (he said I could call him that) was happy to show me what type of Brunellos they had separated from the Chiantis of course.  He suggested that the best year was 2004 for Brunello and explained the aging in oak etc.  The bottles were pretty pricy...so I picked one that was 37 Euros...to try.  Max suggested I let it breathe a couple of hours before I drink it.  For a minute I thought well I better run home now and open it...and then in the same thought I say let's open it now because it usually takes me two hours to find my way home in the dark!
There was a very interesting decanter I bought as well that you secure to the top of the bottle and wine goes through this little tube into a blown glass portion and the wine is aerated as you pour.  Quite the interesting contraption...looked like an old marijana or hootchie pipe.  I thought this would make an ideal gift for the connasseur of wine.  I asked if they sold wine glasses as I only have one and it would be nice in the event company stopped in.  Alessandro said he has and he would gift me two.   I remember when I went to Greece men would buy me gifts.  I didn't have to dye my hair this time.  I graciously thanked the both of them and confirmed that I would be back one day.

And yes it took awhile to find the supermarket from there but I did and managed to get the last chicken. Note to self, forget the Friday night grocery buying.  Dedicate Friday nights to pizza, which I did and had fun chatting with a young fellow while the pizza was warming.  He commented on my smile which made me smile wider.   I walked and walked and walked and walked and finally came to a landmark I recognized.  Another ten minutes and I was home.  One observation while I walked along the cobble/stone streets was that you either had the choice of inhaling auto exhaust (I hope they use unleaded) or a nasal full of some lady's perfume.  Why is it that Italian women put on so much perfume.  They might not have heard the term 'a little dab'll do ya".  I can hardly wait for summer where the air is still and your nasal experience is heightened.  It is all good.  I would never complain, simply making an observation.  Actually the perfumes are not that bad.  Much more desirable than the carbon exhaust.

Well my friends I have now had my pizza and tasted the red nectar of the Brunello di Montalcino and my new mattress topper is calling me.  Till next time ... buona notte.