By
Ariel Leve.
Liza and I are in Italy. We're on holiday and everywhere we go
she's smiling at men and calling out: "Ciao!"
I, on the other hand, am calling out nothing. For Liza, a greeting
is an opportunity to make new friends. For me, it's yet more people
I'll have to avoid.
Last night, two men were flirting with us. In Italy, that means
they said hello. Suddenly Liza is Paris Hilton. Only without the
money, the blonde hair or the desire to expose her midriff. And
instead of saying, "That's hot," her catchphrase is, "Join
us."
For no good reason, she invited Alonso and Alfonso along for dinner.
But before we got to the restaurant, we were granted a tour of Alfonso's
palatial apartment, located above the local gelato store. Everything
Liza found charming, I found creepy.
For instance: the 90-year-old mother watching an Italian game show
in the dark? Liza's reaction: how sweet he takes care of his family.
My reaction: a 38-year-old man should not be sleeping six feet away
from his mother. The photo collage of celebrities who have visited
his gelato shop? Her reaction: impressed he met Kelsey Grammer.
My reaction: get a life. But the final straw came with the shelf
of stuffed animals. Liza's reaction: he's a child at heart. My reaction:
Liza's the least judgmental person on the planet.
At dinner, Alfonso learned I was a writer and immediately volunteered
to call his good friend, Gore Vidal. Seconds later, he hands me
his mobile. "It's Gore," he says. "Talk."
Things were looking up. Liza's chatting to gelato boy; I'm chatting
to Gore Vidal. At first, he sounded confused. And a little scared.
"How do you know Alfonso?" he asked. I said it was a long
story.
He then began what I'm sure was a fascinating conversation, but
I'll never know because the reception was so bad I couldn't hear
a word of it. I'm on the phone with Gore Vidal and all I can contribute
is: "Can you say that again?" As I walked around trying
to locate a better signal, the line went dead.
So it's the end of the evening, Liza is a huddled with Alfonso discussing
the finer points of gelato, and I'm left alone, having put the phone
down on Gore Vidal. |