It was Jani’s first night out in Florence. Having just arrived that day, she had only been in Florence long enough to experience a car accident in her cab immediately upon arrival; drag her suitcase through a thick crowd of tourists and street merchants across a long cobblestone road to her apartment; drag her suitcase up a long, steep staircase; and then finally unpack and make her bed. When she had arrived at the apartment, she was alone. Two of her roommates (who each had their own private rooms) were out, and the roommate she was sharing a bedroom with was arriving later that day.
Upon entering the room, Jani found two twin-sized beds against the walls across from each other to her left, and tall wardrobe on the wall to her right, which filled the entire expanse of that wall. That left a large open space in the middle of the room, and the floor was decorated with a large oriental rug. She took the bed that was on the other side of the room from the door she had just came in. That put her against the wall that had the window facing the narrow alley.
In front of the window at the foot of her bed was a drawing desk. Jani climbed up on top of the desk to get to the window sill, and she looked out of the window. There was a building directly across from her apartment with green shutters, and several Italian flags hanging out of the windows. Below, she watched people walking through the narrow alleyway, dodging the pigeons that flocked throughout the street.
“Here I am,” she thought. She could hear a cathedral bell singing the time to the city and she plopped down on the bed to wait for her roommates to get home. She could go explore, but she was exhausted.
She had started to drift into a daydream that was on the verge of becoming an actual dream when she heard the door open. Her roommates had arrived, and they were accompanied by a few guys who lived a couple floors above them. Jani wasn’t bothered by this. They all knew each other. They were all art students from the same school in America, and were in Florence to study at an Italian art school for the summer.
Jani, Ashley, Tasha, Kristina, Don, and Paul sat in the living room and shared their travel stories. Some had been in Europe already, traveling around before the summer school program had begun. Others had stressful flight delay issues to deal with. And a couple had just arrived that day like Jani had.
After they were all caught up on travel stories, they decided to all go out for dinner and drinks. Jani walked with her roommates and neighbors down the narrow alleyway she had been looking at from above earlier from her bedroom window. Street merchants looked her and her friends up and down (“Oh, fresh Americans with money!” was probably what they were thinking). They found a bunch of little cafes in a courtyard at the end of the alleyway and chose the one closest to them. They ate pasta, pizza, bread, and drank wine. When they were finished, the mission had begun.
“There’s gotta be a happy hour or something around here,” Tasha said. They walked down alleyway after alleyway, turning and winding down more narrow paths. They found a couple walking in the same alleyway, so Don asked them, “excuse me, do you speak English?” The couple looked at him with blank looks on their faces. The couple looked at each other, and the woman turned back toward Don. In a thick Italian accent, she said “No. Eh. Italiano… Eh… Espanol? Français?” Don, Jani, and the rest of the group looked around at each other and were embarrassed to find that no one in the group could speak any of the languages the woman had requested. So Don made a drinking motion with his hand and asked, “pub?”
The couple laughed and pointed down the alleyway. “Feesh Pub?” the woman asked. The man laughed, and then began giving directions in Italian. Don, looking puzzled, scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders. The couple realized that the group of Americans had no idea what the man was saying. Finally, the man made a “follow me” motion with his hand, and the couple led them to the “Feesh Pub”.
Once Jani began to recognize where they were, she realized they were heading back toward where they were staying. But about one block away, the couple pointed toward a blue building across the street. “Feesh Pub,” the woman said, smiling. Jani saw a big wooden sign above the blue building’s door, with big painted letters, “FISH PUB”. She felt a little silly at that moment, but was grateful for the couple who had helped them. The couple nodded, and then went on their way.
“Jackpot,” Paul said, and pointed to a sign in the window. “USA Visitors Welcome: 5 shots for 5 Euros.”
“Niiiiiiice,” Don said as the group ran toward the door. Jani thought the sign was a little weird. Why do they want to target US Tourists like that?
To be continued…
