Victory Dance

Sometimes you just can't catch a break, and everything that can go wrong does go wrong. You miss the bus. Your umbrella turns inside out. The guy next to you at the urinal pees on your shoe.

Saturday was the exact opposite of that. I won Saturday so hard that I am now the subject of an NCAA investigation.

The Language Barrier

I know a modest amount of Italian. I can speak in the all the past and future tenses, I can form hypothetical phrases, and I possess an ever-increasing vocabulary of oddly specific Italian words.

Those metal blinds they pull down over storefronts at night to keep out looters? Saracinesche.
To put a cast on someone's arm? Ingessare.
The @ sign? Chiocciola.

This rudimentary knowledge gives me an undeserved sense of confidence, but ultimately leaves me comically inept when any of the following situations arises:

• Somebody asks me for directions
• I need to ask somebody for directions
• The ticket machine in the subway eats my monthly pass
• I order a coffee and the barista asks me a question other than "grande o piccolo?"

*Usage note: "Pochino" means "a small amount" of something. "Bocchino" means "blowjob." These two words sound dangerously similar, especially when pronounced by a foreigner. Consider yourself warned.