Tired of Ugly Americans Already
We all know the saying: When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Well, what if the Romans DON’T do? I’m amazed at the passivity, the nonchalance, and the SHEER numbers of Romans wandering around in natty business suits at all hours of the day. I keep asking Tom, what DO they DO?! He’s not sure either, though I’m sure we both know: they do whatever it is that keeps them drinking espresso and eating cornetti and looking absolutely fabulous. Because they all look fabulous. From the donna and her designer to the mama and her sensible well-sewn shoes, they’ve all got more style and sense of “fare una bella figura” (to make a good face) than any other culture I’ve met. Before this trip I used to think that passagiata (literally, a walk-about to gossip and be seen) was silly, and now I see if for what it really is: a chance to show a respectable face after living in a city full of crime, graffiti (more on that later) and TOURISTS.
I cringed the other night when we ate dinner at a typically tourist place on the Campo de’ Fiori simply because we knew they took credit cards. The woman tourist (Amercian) next to use said, in an off-putting tone: I would like-a a glass-a white-a wine-a. The waitress, who spoke a little English said: Pinot Grigo, Soave, Gavi, Lacrima Christi? And the woman said, louder: A GLASS-a WHITE-a WINE-a. The girl gave her a withering stare and I fought the impulse to lean over and tell the woman in no uncertain terms: “you uncultured boob, those ARE white wines.” I let her blunder.
I stepped in the other day in Positano, though, when an American man waltzed into the Internet shop I was sitting at and proceeded to swipe away loudly at the keyboard, yelling to his girlfriend over his shoulder: “Hang on, I wanna to check somethin out.” The hostess of the shop stood up from behind the desk alarmed and uncertain: “Scusa”, she said, tentatively. The guy, immediately sensing that he was acting like an ugly American, played the part beautifully. “Wha? Wha? How whas I upposed ta know!? They’re no signs anywhere!?” Of course, it was posted modestly -- everywhere. After he bumbled out I made apologetic motions to the hostess. I tried to explain to her through her indignance that in America, Internet was free in cafes and some public places. She looked both shocked and untrusting. “Internet is never free,” she said. And how was I to argue?
I cringed the other night when we ate dinner at a typically tourist place on the Campo de’ Fiori simply because we knew they took credit cards. The woman tourist (Amercian) next to use said, in an off-putting tone: I would like-a a glass-a white-a wine-a. The waitress, who spoke a little English said: Pinot Grigo, Soave, Gavi, Lacrima Christi? And the woman said, louder: A GLASS-a WHITE-a WINE-a. The girl gave her a withering stare and I fought the impulse to lean over and tell the woman in no uncertain terms: “you uncultured boob, those ARE white wines.” I let her blunder.
I stepped in the other day in Positano, though, when an American man waltzed into the Internet shop I was sitting at and proceeded to swipe away loudly at the keyboard, yelling to his girlfriend over his shoulder: “Hang on, I wanna to check somethin out.” The hostess of the shop stood up from behind the desk alarmed and uncertain: “Scusa”, she said, tentatively. The guy, immediately sensing that he was acting like an ugly American, played the part beautifully. “Wha? Wha? How whas I upposed ta know!? They’re no signs anywhere!?” Of course, it was posted modestly -- everywhere. After he bumbled out I made apologetic motions to the hostess. I tried to explain to her through her indignance that in America, Internet was free in cafes and some public places. She looked both shocked and untrusting. “Internet is never free,” she said. And how was I to argue?
posted by Tom Dowling and Lisa Dowling | 3:17 AM
1 Comments:
Never come back to Southern California, you'll be astonished and really hate it here...in your absence the quantity of Ugly Southern Californians has multipied innumerably. The OC sucks...Laguna Beach blows! Artists are trapped in little fishbowls if they aren't forced to take really stupid non-sequitor day jobs to make rent!
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