Favorite Old Lady

I had an atypically typical encounter with a real typical Italian lady. She gave me some insight into the Italian psyche; so, obviously this event would involve alot of yelling.

I was waiting in a snack bar to grab a snack after work, and this little five-footer of a nonna was at the counter. I had time to decide what I wanted (a panino, thank you) and then look up the bar and see what was going on. Nothing really, in usual Italian service tradition. Before long this lady was launched into an epic tirade, for reasons unclear she was berating the two teenage employees behind the counter. Italians love to yell, and they don’t do it half-way; she gave them what in Canada would be a royal dressing down (which may be just a casual suggestion in this country). Nonetheless, she got her way. The girl behind the counter rather red-faced came over to serve me.
?
That was what the old lady was so upset about. She didn’t think the employees were tending to me in a timely enough manner (I think she had a point) and saw fit to launch a screeching fit, in order to get me some service.

I thanked her profusely and tried to explain that I was Canadian. She smiled. She knew she had done right. She was wise.

But that’s how these people in general seem. They’ll yell and scream and rant and rave, yet also be willing to go out of their way to help a complete stranger. And sometimes, sweet little old ladies will scream and rant in order to help a complete stranger. Grazie Signora.

2005-10-12T10:43:00+00:00 October 12 2005|