Today we are buying scarves. Gwen & I happen upon a fabulous cache of them in one of the booths in piazza near our room. Our eyes glaze over with blinding gluttony as we fondle the material & imagine ourselves duly wrapped in Gallic accouterments. The salesgirl informs us they cost €12 per glorious strip but she will sell us one for €10. "What if we buy two?" I asked shrewdly, invoking the spirit of every canny Arab negotiator I've ever read about. "Then," she replied, "you will have two beautiful scarves.". Forty euro later, we walk away happily with four.
Later.
We are crossing the Piazza del Duomo. As always, I am slack jawed in the presence of the Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore. This is due as much to the beauty of the structure as it is to my deviated septum. Gwendolyn is equally entranced but has the presence of mind to notice the camera crew rushing-stumbling backwards over the cobblestones. The are recording for posterity the testosterone laden male cast members of "The Jersey Shore" as the swagger into the square. There are four of them walking like gunslingers toward an appointment at the OK Corral. Their lips are pursed the way one would if he was to kiss something repulsive. Hats are worn at an angle to prevent the sun from hitting their bad sides. I recognize a couple of them: the Situation & the one that looks like a muscular fireplug. We scamper behind shamelessly, as do all the other American tourists, to snap a photo & bask in the mild contempt of the erstwhile superstars. Two Italian policepeople (one was a girl policeperson) look inquiringly at the growing mob. I inform them helpfully that they are the stars on an American TV show that everyone watches but no one likes. They walk off shaking their heads.
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A glimpse of the boys
LOL! I read in the WSJ that the italians did not want the crew from the Jersey Shore to visit Florence since the show is tasteless.
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