So, this post is kind of late but I’ve been depressed this week and have been whining and feeling all self-loathing. I haven’t been in the mood to write. However, I just got a sudden burst of gumption! Alas, Halloween!
I had no idea that people did the whole Halloween thing here. I thought that I would be “weird” walking down the street dressed as a Zwitch, or zombie-witch. Totally doesn’t make sense, I know, but I’m indecisive and that’s the best I could do. I’m also not very creative. I’ve been here for four years and I don’t really remember halloween being all that big, however, I must have just been going to the wrong places. This year, not only was halloween big in Florence, at one point I was actually scared for my life.
Since Italians are not really familiar with lines, and they lack the anal retentive need for personal space that we so cling to in The Us of A, it kind of makes sense that I was nearly trampled to death by thirty demon midgets in a candy store. That’s not even a joke. That actually happened. I thought that the kids hit up the store because most people live in apartment buildings here, which would make trick-o-treating kind of rough, but it turns out the kids are just gluttonous and evil. I was buying candy for a little pre-party when the door flung open, a breeze blew in, and the little monsters rushed into the store screaming “DOLCETTO O SCHERZETTO.” Then they ran me over, knocked down a chocolate display, and gutted the counter of anything decent without a single “thank you.” The graceful woman working behind the counter was flushed and breathing heavy yet she tried to maintain her composure by leaning on the counter for support. Five minutes later, just as F and I returned home with our goodies, the little bullies were in our apartment building, pounding on our door and taking the candy we’d just bought at the place that (I think) they just robbed.
After the children retreated we were at peace to drink and make merry without fear. F and I had a little aperitivo at our place with a few friends. We dressed up as two zombies, a zwitch, a witch, and a fairy nymph, then we went out. We spent the night drinking at our favorite local pub, Finnegins on Via San Gallo. I remember a shot, a few cocktails, some blonde bimbo telling my husband to get into her car (whaaat?). Batman telling me that I was beautiful and belonged in Greece, a friend told Batman to suck it because I was married. Good job, Rebecca! Everything else is a blur. The next day I was sick for the entire day. The moral of the story is that I traded candy for alcohol and lost big time. Those demon children had the right idea. Next year I’ll skip the booze and rob someone instead.
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