Il Diario di Widukind #26

Today I was sitting out in the calm Roman afternoon, enjoying a nice pezza di pizza and the best Fanta I have ever had (it always has been, is, and will be, better in Europe)…and I almost had to choke a bitch. The table was myself, my Italian “student companion” Silvio, one of my roommates and his girlfriend. The couple is from “outside of Kansas City” (good sign #1), and are very nice people. But then we asked our Italian friend if he’d even been to the states. He hadn’t. Then this happened:

Girl: If you go to the states, you have to go to Chipotle.

Silvio: What is it?

Girl: It’s a restaurant. They have the best burritos!

It’s been two sentences and I simply can’t take it anymore so I interject like the elitist North Californian I am.

Me: No. No, no, no, you need to come to San Francisco and get a real burrito.

Girl: They’re not really like real burritos though, they’re different. I think they’re better.

I was immediately reminded of these three posts. One: most people have no idea what actual Mexican food tastes like. And it’s a shame. Two: don’t pretend like you know what the hell you’re talking about when you clearly have no idea whatsoever. That would be like if Bill Simmons started writing about soccer. Oh, no, wait…fuck Bill Simmons. Three: I’m sure all of you know how badly I wanted to turn this girl and articulate my feelings. “They’re different”? What is that supposed to even mean? It’s a fucking burrito.

Of course, the exchanged continued with:

Girl: I get the burrito bowl.

I don’t even want to start with this one.

The best quote of the meal came immediately after the above statement:

Girl: It’s my favorite restaurant!

O_o

Note to self: never move to “outside of Kansas City”.

I’ll just turn the rest of this in to a little list of things I’ve picked up so far here.

• People always talk about “culture shock”. I think the concept is beyond dumb. Pick up a fucking book before you go someplace, for gods sake. However, if any one thing were to have “shocked” me so far is how much dog poop is on the sidewalks here. No one picks up their shit. Where’s Gary when you need him?!

• I used to think the phrase “there’s plenty of fish in the sea” was total BS because there’s clearly not. Now I realize that I am wrong; they’re all here. It first really hit me a couple of nights ago while we were out walking around Trastevere, a neighborhood with tons of bars and streets packed with people out enjoying the night. There are plenty of tourists around, but it is still mostly Italians. The women were gorgeous and bountiful. Suddenly, as we walked in to a plaza called Campo di Fiori, I noticed the talent had dropped significantly. Campo di Fiori is the center of tourist nightlife in Rome. Coincidence? Obviously fucking not.

• Italian women are hot.

• My school is literally a two-minute walk from the Vatican. I haven’t seen Benny Dicks yet, but I’m keeping an eye out. Also, I asked an Italian tour guide "what does the Pope do all day?" She explained that he has a lot of administrative duties to deal with because he's the head of the country. Yeah, a country of 900 celibate, non-drug taking, 80-year old dudes. "Il Papa! We ran out of Depends again! And Bob fell asleep in the middle of his sermon and had a wet dream and jizzumed all over the Pietà!"
  

• And because I know Hartattack wants to know, while I’ve hit the town a bunch so far, the Deebster had yet to come out until last night. But he was being all grumbly in my tumbly; a pub crawl played the three rubs to the genies lamp, and he was unleashed:

Lookin’ saucy in my Dunkmans! Keep in mind I’m not trying to do the “rock on” gesture, but rather the Sign of the Horns. Never do that to an Italian dude. They will not be happy. That chick has had a boyfriend for four years and plans on getting married by the end of senior year. She literally rubbed her boobs in my face (Hi, Mom!); she clearly knew how to strike a chord with the Deebster. But, we didn't make out, so, you know, she wasn't like, cheating or anything.

Working on getting a webcam so I can Skype outta this bitch.

Out like American girls' chances of ever comparing to le ragazze d'Italia!