I am begining to like Sacha, our real estate broker. He collects our rent for the local landlord, who never shows his face. If you see it, he has to kill.
But Sacha came over last night during dinner to give us some dance pointers ("Do not go to that club. It has the, come si dice...gangsters") and take our down payment, and ended up staying a while. Through the conversation, we had this exchange:
"You are, uh...Californian, typical americano. You like [makes surfing motions]..."
"A surfer?"
"No, like the, uh, Point Broken, no?"
"Point Break?"
"Si! Patrick Swayze!"
He also compared me to Michael Knight.
An update: Wheels and the Wheelies have found a place, and are moving in this weekend. It's near the Spanish Steps, which means it probably isn't cheap, but it's better than living in cardboard boxes.
Which wasn't what they were doing. I just think it's better than that certain situation.
1 comment:
I have read all your posts and you are hilarious.
I'm sad that you will be in Italy. I'm sure you are not.
But, I wish we would have hung out more. My bad.
Enjoy your stay.
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