Our Man in Europe: WATCHTOWER: No. 12: "Spatchelor."
I break down (twice). It was a Thursday (Sheffield Thursday? -Nope). I go buy - in lieu of my "grande Americano Amici" arriving: I go BUY a Spatchelor (€1.97) to flip the "SUNNY SIDES UP!" (eggs)... Actrually, in my Euro-Exile I've become quite "deft" with a table spoon "con oile di olive".
I was always flippant.
There's that.
....I'm trying to remember the 1970's when every cool cat wore Kaktans, had Sitar music rusting on thee olde "La Stereo", and an abode swampt with the ozone of brown rice mixed with Cinnamon sticks. Incense candles, of course. Pour it ON! What WERE those people thinking? And - lol - where are they now?...
My next (2nd of 2) breakdowns included breaking one of Italy's Cardinal rules. I went out "busking" on Piacenza's main pedestrian drag during the Holy THREE hour lunch break.
Cops showed up. In droves. In THIS instance? The CITY cops, NOT the Carrabineri. The CITY cops, has I've previously mentioned - in this book-blog - are akin to "Barney Fife" and allowed ONLY to carry ONE BULLET - in case of rabid Nuns - in their dress uniform pocket.
Anyways; they show up. Apparently I'm disturbing the beoguiosie whilst they Siesta: the Barney Fifes/CITY cops siren skid-screech, onto the scene in their HOT ROD "Smart Cars", jump out, then with legs akimbo, draw and aim their - unloaded - Glock 9mm's, aim them at ME and start yelling: "PUT THE WEAPON ON THE GROUND!!!"
I was a tad confused. I had no weapon. My Spannish guitar (€35) I placed before me and put my hands over my head in complete sardonic subservience.
Cut a long story short? I confessed - to the Barney Fife's - to being callouslly flaglant as to Italy's "Siesta" laws/customs and that INDEED I had a "concealed Spatchelor" in my "piccolini cucina/kitchen" which, given my liberty, I would produce at Police HQ (IL QUESTURA) on Monday-ish.
c 2012/davedelacroix/LORD BORGO/Piacenza/Italia/August 1st. Monsoon, kiddoes. But cool...:)
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