Yay! I thought. An opportunity to make new friends and drink beer. Perfect :)
So we find ourselves at “The Red Garter”, surrounded by our own kind, for once. As we look around, however, we realize that we have actually transported to Cabo Wabo during Spring Break. People are chugging from fishbowls, singing karaoke, and drunkenly dancing on a stage. I thought I came here to become more cultured. (Ok and obviously party). But if I wanted to go to Mexico, I would have just booked a much cheaper flight to Puerta Vallarta. (I'm sure in retrospect that if I was that girl on stage, I would have been having a blast, but luckily I wasn't on that level.)
So we leave and go to a place Pa had recommended if we wanted to experience a true Italian bar, called “Slowly” (yes everything here has an American name).
I feel out of place immediately. Everyone is staring at us as we are sat at a table. Little blonde Americans in a sea of locals. At least the music is on our sides (yes, all they play here is American, too).
The older Italian gentlemen next to us are friendly though (as most of them are to us), and ten minutes later we have champagne bottle service. We spend the rest of the evening laughing and bantering back and forth in English and Italian with what turn out to be a doctor and a businessman. We learn how to say “stop” (“fermo”), and “shut up” ("stai zitto"). The language barrier makes everything hilarious and we literally laugh all night.
I can see my mother reading this with horror on her face. It’s ok mom, I didn't go into any dark alleys or give my apartment keys, or social security number to these guys.
We leave (by ourselves) around 2 and conclude our attempted pub crawl/local bar adventure with, at the least, a couple new Italian words in our vocabulary.
And, a pretty sweet picture of the doctor throwing up the Gamma, although despite all our efforts, he never understood what we meant by sorority ;)
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