Under The Italian Sun

One Coincidence Too many – Part 2

Yes, you guessed right, my card was blocked again.
The first week of holidays I go to the supermarket, yes the one from before, and even if I had some cash with me, I stupidly decided to pay by card. When the machine didn’t recognize the pin, a colossal alarm bell started flashing in front of my eyes. But it was only when even the second pin attempt failed that the bell rang loudly inside my head.
I listened, and I was smart enough not to insert the pin the bloody third time.
I paid cash, and that was it.
Few days had passed, I didn’t use the card and forgot about it until the night I went out for dinner with my mom.
None of us was particularly hungry, and we decided to go for a stroll before our meal. While walking on the promenade mom remembered that someone had mentioned a new bistro on the seafront. Never listen to suggestions, mainly if you cannot clearly remember who gave them to you. We walked for over half an hour, that was good because by the time we reached the place we were hungry but, unfortunately, the place was a total disappointment to the eyes. We refused to give it a chance and walked back. When we eventually arrived at our starting point, we were starving, and my bladder was bursting.
“Stick with what you know”. It is always the best of policy, and so we went to a place we both know well and close to home. We were done being adventurous for the evening. Except, after dinner, I realized I still had some residues of adventures and dragged my mother to a shoe shop where I bought myself a pair of winter clogs. No, my boldness side was not to buy the winter clogs but to try to pay for them with my card.

The card was denied, and I felt behind embarrassment. Yes, I know I should have got used to this by then and, in fact, my discomfort was not due to the failed transaction, but to my mother thoughtful comment: “you should make sure your husband refill your card before using it, dear”.
The lady from the shop pretended to have not heard my mother offensive attempt of humor and sweetly smiling at me she offered to retry the payment blaming the poor internet connection.
“No, no. No need to retry. It is that bloody supermarket”, I blabbed declining her offer and paying with my other card.
The following morning I rang the bank behind furious as they surely had erroneously blocked my card. I know my rights.
Not really! The wrong pin must be digitized three times in an indefinite amount of time to cause the block of the card. To be more explicit, you do not have to wrong your pin three times in a row, but it is enough three times …in your life!
So be careful people, write down every time you digit your pin wrong because years later can haunt you back.

The Beach War

Our holidays home came with a private beach spot.
Every apartment has its spot with two or three beach chairs, and an umbrella. The places are organized in neat rows and there is a rota. Every week everybody moves forward, and backward so that, over the length of summer, everyone has the chance to occupy the first row more than once.
The first row is notoriously the most coveted, (Nobody is in front of you, and you are just a few steps away from the sea.), but quite popular are also the second and the third row. I see that, and I certainly enjoy when it is my turn to be on the beach Podio . What I don’t see, it is how this can be an obsession .But it is and there are those who shift from place to place wherever there is a seat free in the first the three rows. Tome only the idea of the effort that this requires make me sweatšŸ„µ.

My family ‘s insane habit of respecting the rules and occupying the position we are assigned week after week made us oblivious to the racket of the beach spots.Until this year, when we have been so lucky to be by rota in second and first row for the entire duration of our stay.
Soon it became apparent that being in one of the first three rows by rota is not a legitimate right but a fault. If you then go to the beach every day, and maybe also at random times, that is the worst of the sins.
The proper ” beach Podio obsessed “, refuse to seat anywhere beyond the second row. They study their beach neighbors’ habits, their timetable and day by day they move around from one spot to another along the first rows of the beach. Are you wondering if they have their place? Of course they do, but using it is not an option unless it is in first row. Out of desperation, they can even settle for the second of the third one, but it must be the last option left, and until a better place gets free.

Let me tell you; these people have years of experience. They have skills and they act fast and relentless. With a stroke of beach towel they shift from first to second to the third place and back to first without fear.
Do other people who respect the rules get upset? Yes, they do! I heard these people had been told many times to back off, but with no success. Bad manners and disrespect of the rules will keep prevailing until a butt print system is installed in every single beach chair so that only the rightful butt can occupy the rightful chair ……