okay, so this one time, in milano---I got decked by an old lady. Yeah.
She must have been 10cm shorter than me, but judging from the mark on my face I can say she was undoubtedly working out in her offtime of menacing the streets. Benchpressing canned goods in her pantry methinks.
Yeah. it was the old, i'm going to stand in your way and act like i might say something and then hit your face really hard with my elbow routine. you might think that I would have used the skillz i learned in Madrid that other time when i got mugged 3x in 3 days, you know, some of my white-girl-kung-fu action that saved all my cash.... but no. Seriously, it was so unexpected, i just broke down right there on the sidewalk, and flat out wimpered & cried. She was an old lady, it was out of the blue, i recall my thoughts as it was happening... maybe she wanted to tell me something, okay no, she's using her hands, maybe it's an italian gesture, okay, no, ----WHAMMEEE!
You can imagine how hard it was to return to work for 4 more hours of (getting paid 4 euro an hour, even).
Yeah, and then there was that other time when the boss definitely called me fat and shouted at me, saying i should stop eating pasta and proscuitto cause he couldnt get around me. At which, all my other coworkers grabbed me and said, 'mayygahhnn'!! Serrrrrriously. that was the same day that all the drawings were wrong, (like i had been telling them all along " no no, sono sigura, quelli linee non coincidere") and then i took the blame for it, and for that the boss wanted me head on a platter. But without a doubt in my mind it was Not My Fault. But, it was so stressful, i came home and just cried it all out. Oh my goodness, it was so hard not to react badly at work. And then the next day we were back to normal and he was blowing fatherly-kisses at me, and putting his hand on my shoulder. And what am I to do?
I swear these italians are hot and cold, one second they are screaming lividly over the work, and the next they are all leaving for a nice lunch together. one day it's 'come have some gelati' and the next it's my fault again.
sigh. It's hard to believe it, but my time is 1/2 done in Milano. And don't tell my parents, but when i look at my wallet i only have 30 euro left. i am praying that i am getting paid on Friday...(not like 600 euro a month and then minus my rent, is something to dance in the streets about.... but otherwise next week is going to be me surviving on pasta and the kindnesses of others. ) Dun dun dun...
Oh maybe my credit cards will come soon. I will pray for this too. PS: did you know, i lost all my credit cards/ debit cards / ID cards right before i left, i mean, like the day-before-the-filght? yeah. That is not something i plan to repeat. Ever.
Right. Back to work then.
---meg.
She must have been 10cm shorter than me, but judging from the mark on my face I can say she was undoubtedly working out in her offtime of menacing the streets. Benchpressing canned goods in her pantry methinks.
Yeah. it was the old, i'm going to stand in your way and act like i might say something and then hit your face really hard with my elbow routine. you might think that I would have used the skillz i learned in Madrid that other time when i got mugged 3x in 3 days, you know, some of my white-girl-kung-fu action that saved all my cash.... but no. Seriously, it was so unexpected, i just broke down right there on the sidewalk, and flat out wimpered & cried. She was an old lady, it was out of the blue, i recall my thoughts as it was happening... maybe she wanted to tell me something, okay no, she's using her hands, maybe it's an italian gesture, okay, no, ----WHAMMEEE!
You can imagine how hard it was to return to work for 4 more hours of (getting paid 4 euro an hour, even).
Yeah, and then there was that other time when the boss definitely called me fat and shouted at me, saying i should stop eating pasta and proscuitto cause he couldnt get around me. At which, all my other coworkers grabbed me and said, 'mayygahhnn'!! Serrrrrriously. that was the same day that all the drawings were wrong, (like i had been telling them all along " no no, sono sigura, quelli linee non coincidere") and then i took the blame for it, and for that the boss wanted me head on a platter. But without a doubt in my mind it was Not My Fault. But, it was so stressful, i came home and just cried it all out. Oh my goodness, it was so hard not to react badly at work. And then the next day we were back to normal and he was blowing fatherly-kisses at me, and putting his hand on my shoulder. And what am I to do?
I swear these italians are hot and cold, one second they are screaming lividly over the work, and the next they are all leaving for a nice lunch together. one day it's 'come have some gelati' and the next it's my fault again.
sigh. It's hard to believe it, but my time is 1/2 done in Milano. And don't tell my parents, but when i look at my wallet i only have 30 euro left. i am praying that i am getting paid on Friday...(not like 600 euro a month and then minus my rent, is something to dance in the streets about.... but otherwise next week is going to be me surviving on pasta and the kindnesses of others. ) Dun dun dun...
Oh maybe my credit cards will come soon. I will pray for this too. PS: did you know, i lost all my credit cards/ debit cards / ID cards right before i left, i mean, like the day-before-the-filght? yeah. That is not something i plan to repeat. Ever.
Right. Back to work then.
---meg.
1 Comments:
Meg!!! When you're old you'll have to deck some youngster out of the blue as revenge...it just wouldn't be right to hit an old lady, even if she deserves it. Just remember that all of us back home love you ALL the time! And I want to hear more about the italian hotties!!! Next post for sure, ok?!? <3 <3
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