Amelia in Italy

I keep saying, 'Slow down! Slow down!"

Do they listen? No.

This is what we get for coming after tourist season.
They let all the good wait staff go once the last loaded bus leaves
With fat people from the Midwest
Who got a trip to Italy as their fortieth wedding present
From their ungrateful children

Waiter! Waiter!

Dolores, how do you say 'waiter' in Italian?

Waitorio! Waitorio!

Oh, never mind
They'll just pretend they don't hear me
I'm the whiny woman from the states
Who drinks too much before a reasonable hour
And mangles the local language
Like a farmer strangling a chicken

Pauline keeps telling me it's political
They hate our President, so they hate us
I don't understand that for a moment
Do I look like I'm from Texas?
Do I wear a goofy grin on my face?
Do I seem like I'd be for off-shore drilling?
I don't judge them for Mussolini
Why should they judge me?

But you can't argue with them
If you can't talk to them

Casa de blanco? Please? Blanco de casa?

God, I loathe red wine
Call it the Catholic in me
I feel like I'm drinking blood
Bitter, starchy, almost-out-of-a-box blood

I'd rather drink 7-up
From the can

I don't know what's gotten into these Italians
Maybe we're too far South
I've only been this far South once
They were fine then
But that was the 70's
And I was honeymooning
I might not have noticed if they were rude to me then
I was a more forgiving person then

Robert used to have a way with them
He'd say a few words, snap his fingers
Then we'd have the best of everything
Food
Wine
Hotel rooms
It was like being newly married to Houdini

Maybe that's why I don't like it so much anymore
Maybe it's because he's not here
Robert had a way of making every experience perfect
Except his death
He screwed that one up

I walk into the house and there he is in his chair
He told me before I could get rid of that chair
He'd die in it
Maybe I should have taken him more seriously
I was planning on moving it out the next day
It was hideous, Dolores
You remember it
It looked like a dead elephant with armrests

I can't believe I had something grey in my house for that long

Waitorio! Waitaranzo! Waitstein?

Oh no, that's not right.

Aren't they happy with our new President?
Shouldn't they be treating us better?
Today I asked for a lime with my drink
The bartender looked at me
Like I had asked for a knife to slit my throat with

'No lime,' he says, 'You're in Italy now!'

They don't have lime in Italy?
I didn't realize I was in a non-lime country
In my head, I start panicking
What else don't they have that I haven't thought of?
Do they have kiwis?
Are they averse to all citrus fruits?
I like orange juice with my pancakes
Do they have that?
No?
Can I still get a mimosa?

It was like I'd never been here before

Then that afternoon
I ask for a lime again
To see what happens
And they give it to me
So the guy was just being a jerk

The lady at the shoe store
Snapped at me when I asked for a pair in a bigger size

'What's wrong with the size you have on,' she asks.

I told her I'd like to feel my feet
When they're in my shoes
If that's not too much to ask

How dare these people be so rude
Just because I'm an American
I think it might be because they think
I'm going to be rude to them first
So they're beating me to the punch
And that's just not right
To generalize like that
To slap that label on an entire people
To stereotype!

Jesus Christ, Dolores
If I wanted to deal with so many rude people on a vacation
I'd have gone to France

God forgive me

Maybe I'm just cranky
No, forget that
No maybe at all
I'm cranky

I came here to try to reclaim my happiness
It was impossible to stay home
Home isn't home without Robert
Now it turns out Italy isn't Italy without Robert
Will anything ever be what it was if it doesn't have him in it?
Did anything survive him dying?

Eh, maybe I didn't survive it either
Maybe I'm a ghost

I haven't even got the spirit to snap back at the waiters
When they ask me how long it takes to pick an entree
I just let them be rude to me
It feels good actually
When your husband dies
All you deal with are polite people
Night and day
Having humanity spit on you again feels refreshing after months of that

I'm going home early, Dolores
Or I'm going somewhere, I don't know
I just know I can't stay here
Not without the tourists
And the good waiters
And Robert

I miss too much
There should be a word for that
When you don't miss one particular thing
When you're just in a state of missing

God, I wish there were a word for that
I'd use it all the time