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About Florence

Last week, I’m pourin’ whiskey, this dude stumbles in – reeks of desperation. Asks me, “Where’s the action?” I laugh, “What action, schmuck?” He’s all twitchy, like he’s gonna bribe me for a hookup. Made me mad as hell – I ain’t no pimp! Told him, “The world is unfair, pal.” Straight outta the Coen flick. He sulks off, probly cryin’ to his momma.

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Next, I head over to Piazza della Repubblica. It’s buzzing, as usual. People everywhere, sipping their espresso, chatting. I love the vibe here. But then, I spot this old lady struggling with her shopping bags. I rush over, ‘cause that’s what good people do, right? I help her out, and she’s like, “Grazie, giovane!” I’m feelin’ like a hero for a sec. But then she starts telling me her life story. I’m talkin’ 30 minutes of “back in my day” tales. I’m nodding, but inside I’m like, “Lady, I gotta prune some trees!”

Donatella M. Capurso