Dov'è l'acqua?

[muckefuck]

Since it's intersession, I expected the cafe to be half deserted; instead, it was hectic. I saw a lot of name tags, so I'm assuming there's some conference going on. That's okay: Middle-aged professors mean better eye-candy for me than vapid young things anyway.

Some of the foreigners seemed a little baffled by the drinks dispenser. I saw one kind of confusedly fingering one of the dispenser tabs, like he couldn't quite figure out what it was for. Later, I saw two men huddled together discussing the options. One poured a few fingers of dark soda, tasted it, and poured it out.

"What are you looking for?" I asked, helpfully.

"Biera. Beer? Which one is beer?"

"None of them."

"Where is the water?"

I pointed to one of buttons.

"It says 'Ginger Ale'."

"If you push, ginger ale. If you pull, soda water."

He nodded and his companion began filling a cup. "You know," he said, "In the United States it's hard to find plain water." I shrugged. "Not like Italy," he added. "Of course, everything's better there!" I replied, grinning. "You know it?" he asked before moving away.

Comments

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

I took it to mean "Conosci Italia?" And I do, mai non bene. (I was only there once and that's a loooong time ago now!)