Oof! This has been a hard week. It’s been tough getting back into the swing of things after a week doing very little and to top it off I haven’t been feeling well. I’m a little tired and in need of some non-teaching related adult conversation, which this week came from a surprising source.
Whilst on the bus to one of my schools on Wednesday, a hoard of Inter Milan supporters pushed their way on. Packed in on all sides I was trying carefully not to step on anybody’s toes and ensure nothing was stolen from my bag or pockets. The supporter nearest me asked me how many stops to the metro for the stadium. I answered I didn’t know, probably about 6.
“She says about 7 or 8,” yelled said supporter to the rest of the fans.
“You’re not Italian?” he asked.
“No.” I said, hoping that he wasn’t going to start a conversation.
“Where are you from?” he asked full of curiosity.
“England” I replied shortly but politely.
“Where in England?” he continued with enthusiasm.
“London,” I said, seeing my subtle hints of wishing to remain in anonymity and peace were going ignored and hoping very much this man wasn’t going to turn out to be a nutcase/creep.
“Are you watching the game tonight?” he asked.
“What game?” I replied. This time it was his turn to look a little nonplussed.
“Inter- Chelsea!” ‘Are you really from London?' was written all over his face. At that point I relaxed and we had a really nice chat about the promiscuity of Chelsea players and their wives and Ashley Cole’s imminent divorce all the way to Lotto. He turned out to be Southern Italian, which I think would explain his disregard for Milanese bus-riding etiquette.
“Football teams are like mothers. You can only have one!” he shouted to his friends joyfully, neatly encompassing two Italian stereotypes in one go.