A few days ago, I went to the grocery store. No big deal, just a quick run for my I-miss-you fix of cottage cheese and a pear. Except that the quick run turned into a twenty minute ordeal, seventeen of which I spent standing in line.
Because, you see, Italians don’t really do the whole practical thing. Sure, we’ll have a supermarket. But heaven forbid we open more than three cash registers. The hundred people (I am not making this up) waiting in line? Not a problem. They’re only blocking the fish bar, the wine aisle, and the chocolate racks. And it’s not like we really need Gismo there to open that fourth cash register-he’s perfectly fine to just sit there playing origami with discarded receipts.
Also, if they have cottage cheese today, don’t expect it to be there tomorrow. An exciting place, il supermercato. Always new, always changing. Handy for the ADD in you, a problem when you’ve come to count on things like, oh, MILK.
2 comments:
Yes, institutions may have the same name, but the similarities can end there when travelling.
I will always remember my supervisor saying that "Germans obey the road rules to the letter and woe betide anyone who breaks them. Italians, though - traffic lights may as well just be pretty lights on the side of the road."
You now have no need to visit Brasil. Unless you need heat.
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