J, Sunday Scaries

Sunday Scaries #5

Buona Sera, it’s the Scariest Sunday of them all. I’m about to leave Venice to fly my ass back to Philly via Frankfurt, drive down to C’s parents’ house to pick up her pup, then drive back to DC and cry while I think about having to work tomorrow. TBH the most upsetting part of this is having to leave my paradise of hot AF men and 2.50 prosecco. Pretty upset I didn’t get married while I was in Venice, but I think I like German men better anyway. Italians are kinda smelly.

Obviously my week has been literal perfection spent thriving in Venice and Cortina, but fuckboys will be fuckboys and find a way to sneak into my life. Roll the tapes!

1. Some blast from the past blocked me on FB hahahaha

I was just minding my own business, sipping a cappuccino on top of Mount Faloria in Cortina d’Ampezzo, when I checked my Facebook messages and realized I had a new message from the guy who sent me Yoda pictures.

I mean, it’s really nice of him to slide into my inbox. I can’t sleep well until a fuckboy has fed his lines to me.

If he had spent literally 1/2 a second on my profile he would have seen the 78932094 Italy photos I had posted #sorrynotsorry, so I was not kind in my response.

I was just about to respond to thank him to confirm his statement and thank him for noticing when he blocked me. Another one bites the dust!

2. There is literally no one good on Hinge so I’ve just started trolling

If you haven’t used Hinge before then a) I’m jealous of you it’s the worst and b) you may need some background on how it works. Here goes.

A Hinge profile is laid out more like a story about you than a simple sequence of pictures with a bio you may or may not read. You start with a picture, then answer a question (i.e. “What trip would you like to take next?” or “What are some unusual talents?”). Then comes another picture, some quick stats (height, current city/neighborhood, job, school, hometown), and then more questions and pictures. Instead of just liking a profile as a whole, you choose either a picture or an answer* to like.

*Unfortunately you can’t just like the height field, womp.

Now, usually I just like their last picture to show that I scrolled through their whole bio and move on with my life. However, when I’m nearing the midnight hour and haven’t yet made my way through my 10 daily likes (once again, everyone in DC sucks), I’ve been turning my strategy to trolling. Here were this week’s victims recipients:

Eagerly counting the minutes until I get kicked off!

3. We got a man’s nonna’s tomato sauce recipe

My literal only goal for this trip besides gaining 10 pounds in gnocci and prosecco (accomplished) was to get an Italian nonna’s tomato sauce recipe. This seemed like a foolproof plan, until C and I realized that Italian is a very different language than Spanish, and we didn’t really speak it. At all. And the Italian people we talked to in the Alps didn’t really speak English, either. What is a girl to do?!

Practice. And practice we did, watching Netflix movies with Italian subtitles, translating everything on our phones, and preparing for that magic encounter. That moment finally came on our last night in Cortina, when we had fled dinner at Ristorante Ra Stua to head to our standby drinking spot, La Scaletta* for one last hurrah.

*I just looked up this translation, and scaletta means ladder. As in, “After 4 glasses of 2.50 prosecco at La Scaletta, we had climbed the ladder from sober to drunk AF.”

It was there at La Scaletta where we met Alvin, a 40-something Italian DJ who was there with all of his “friends” who left him as soon as he started talking to us. Knowing this was our last chance, I struck.
J – Alvin, posso avere ricetta di salsa di pomodoro di tua nonna?
A – Ah, si!

And with this, we became spectator to a lively debate between the bartender and Alvin over the type of tomato needed to make the best tomato sauce. In fact, we headed out only knowing the type of tomato (and some vague idea of adding basil, olive oil, salt and pepper) because Mr. DJ Alvin who had never heard of Tomorrowland started getting creepy, and we had an early wake up call. Well, we tried. Bye forever Alvin!

Well, that’s all the shit that happened this week! Sorry it’s light, kids. I’ll try to get into some shenanigans back in the states immediately. Ciao!


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