When I was last in Florence in 2008, I had bought a painting
of Pinocchio from an artist behind the San Lorenzo market. Pinocchio is big in
Florence – you can get all manner of Pinocchios – key chains, figurines,
woodenheads, etc. These particular renderings were quite nice and when we got
it home we had it framed and now it is hanging in Finn’s room and looks quite
nice there, too. When I wandered in behind the San Lorenzo market this time, I
spotted my Pinocchio and artist sitting pretty much where we saw him last
time. I remembered him from his hat.
It’s a cross between a tuque and the Pillsbury Doughboy’s hat. So I stopped and
took a look at his new paintings and then told him how I bought something from
him 4 years ago. A few days later, on my way to the train station, I decided to
pick up a painting. So I flipped through his paintings while he was serving
some American ladies and we chatted in Italian. He asked how long I was here,
what I was doing here, where was I staying and what I did. So we chatted, he
sold things to other people and I flipped through more of his drawings. Then he
asked where I went out at night. Eep. I don’t go out much at night, I said. I
flipped through the photos faster and kept talking trying to change the
subjects and start new tangents. The he suggested that we go for a coffee. That
would be great, I answered, but you have all these customers, you can’t just
leave them. Faster flipping, more subjects to distract and then at one point he
said, “E molto bellissimo quanto
parli italiano – e sensualissimo.” Eep! That was my cue – I picked
whichever Pinocchio water painting was in my hand, paid him and had to wait
very patiently and be as evasive as I can in Italian while he wrapped my
painting in cardboard, had to look for the tape, cut the cardboard and then
wrap it all up. I said Arrivederci! with the biggest smile I could and
continued on to the train station to try to figure out how to buy a train
ticket and then also how to find my way back home without having to pass the
San Lorenzo market.

Hey Ina, way to shake off Abdul the Arab. What's going to happen when Fabio the real Italian with his sweater perfectly flung on his shoulders works his magic on you. Do I need to come over there and keep an eye on my schwege schwesterin? Just give me the word.
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