14 December 2006
love thursday: how a jean jacket and some wind can change your life

Let me confess that I have a bit of a jacket/coat fetish. I love them. All. If I could afford to have a different jacket/coat for every day of the year, for every kind of weather, I would. Hooded, traditional collar, zipper, button, cropped, ankle-length, sporty, any color, any time.

So imagine my excitement when, the last time I was in America, I found a spectacular jean jacket at the Gap--on sale! Jean jackets are particularly difficult for me--must be the exact right length, right color, right level of fittedness. You see the issues. Well this one was it. So it came back to Italy with me, and I treasured it.

But then one exceptionally windy day in May of 2005, I carelessly rested it on my shoulder bag as I walked from the piazza to my house, about a three minute walk. In my defense, I was also carrying my friend's cat, who I'd be watching that weekend. When I got to my house, I set down the little guy and took the bag off my shoulder. No jacket.

Now, when I say that it was exceptionally windy, we're talking hurricane force gusts. We get powerful winds from all directions, but this one was the scirocco from the Sahara (they tell me), and it was ridiculously fierce. We're far enough away that we don't get the sand too, but my friends in Sicilia often aren't so lucky (they tell me). I actually had doubts that my jacket was even still in the village.

I went back up to the piazza and began walking around kind of aimlessly, looking for cornered spots where the jacket may have landed. I was interrupted by one of the guys from the village. We'll call him #1. I had seen him around and we had exchanged "ciao" many times, but we had never actually met. Next thing I knew, he had rounded up a group of young boys and they were searching high and low for my jacket; he even sent one down into the vegetation just over the ledge of the lookout point of the square.

In the meantime, another young man from the village--let's call him #2--began chatting me up. A bunch of smalltalk, nothing special, but noticeably not even a mention of the missing jacket. So I'm standing there, and I'm nodding to whatever it was he was blathering on about, and what I'm really thinking is how unbelievably nice it was of #1 to organize a makeshift search team and actually *do* something for me rather than just hit on me. And wasn't he kind of cute after all?

The fruitless search ended soon thereafter. Dejected, I walked home on the main street. About halfway down, I heard "Signorina!" from a woman on her balcony. Turns out she saw my jacket fly away, and she was keeping it safe and sound in her house the whole time. Reunited!

That evening after dinner, I put on my beloved jacket and took a walk into the piazza. I noticed #1 in the doorway of the bar and thought I should at least tell him that I found the darn thing. So I walked up there and did just that. He asked if I wanted an amaro (a digestive liqueur). Here I should mention that #1 had asked me if I wanted a coffee or other beverage, oh, probably 20 times before--but that's not an usual thing here as even the old geezers are always offering. Or maybe I just always look thirsty.

Anyway, usually I respond to such questions with a quick "No, no," wind up the conversation, and skadoodle. But this time, before I had chance to think, I had already accepted the amaro. And I don't even like amaro.

We spent that evening walking and talking, getting to know one another, and have been together ever since. Yes, clever readers, #1 is the infamous P, and this was our first official meeting. It was love at first flight! Sorry, couldn't resist.

But now you know the story of how a jean jacket and some wind can change your life. Or at least mine.

But if you're waiting for pic of P, or of P and me, sorry to disappoint. He's still blog shy and despite the fact that he doesn't read English, pictures are the universal language.

Please note that Chookooloonks, the founder of Love Thursday, has ended her written journal, but you can find her photography journal (with a fabulous Love Thursday photo) here.

Happy Love Thursday everyone!

Labels: , , ,



24 Comments:

Anonymous J.Doe said...

I'm glad you got your jacket back. I always love happy endings!

Blogger Jen said...

What a fun story. So glad there was a double happy ending--reunion and love. Happy Love Thursday!

Blogger sognatrice said...

Thanks J and Jen; I was pretty happy with both results as well :)

Blogger -R- said...

That is such a good story! I bet guy #2 is pissed though. =)

What a great story. I love reading how people meet. Who knew a jean jacket from the GAP could be so romantic?

Blogger katerinafiore said...

That is a fabulous story amica!! I love coats too...I would have gotten a search party together too. HAHA!! Lucky girl bella!!

Blogger sognatrice said...

R, excellent observation. And I kinda hope you're right ;)

NYC, romance lingers in the most commercial, banal places sometimes! Who woulda thought?

Katerina, best of luck choosing the perfect coats to accompany you to Firenze. I still wish I had brought my camel hair pea coat. It was a classic, but I thought black would be more practica. *sigh*

Blogger sognatrice said...

Um, that should be "practical." You know you're in Italy too long when a word only looks right when it ends in a vowel.

Blogger Christine said...

Cute story. And I saw the Luna pic from last week, and gush, sono innamorata anch'io. Cute.

Blogger Shan said...

What a beautiful story.

So much nicer than my own "how did you meet story", which is we were in the same art class in high school.

Blogger sognatrice said...

Thanks Christine. Luna's head will barely fit through the door as it is with all the "principessa" talk around here.

Oh Shan, high school sweethearts have their own special place in the "how did you meet" genre. And anyway, I'm sure there's some twist you're not sharing...like that he offered you his finest brush when you needed to sign your name or, I don't know, some kind of "Ghost" moment or something.

Blogger Shan said...

Ghost moment, that's funny. How did you know it was a pottery class?

Actually the whole story is all about persistence. Michael was very persistent. I was very much not interested. Shows what I know.

Blogger sognatrice said...

I just knew it must have been pottery. If raw, slimy, and cold don't bring two people together, well, it ain't gonna happen. And yes, persistence is a very good thing. This worked for P, too, when I accepted the 21st offer of something to drink.

Blogger Eileen said...

Coat love....do you think this is the key to my happiness as well? Perhaps I need to innocently exploit my coat love.....

Blogger Waspgoddess said...

That's a very sweet story. I love to read (or hear) about how people first met. Definitely one of my hobbies :)

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sognatrice,

Ahhh, so *this* is how you met....
I can picture the whole scene, especially the old geezers who always offer to buy you coffee...they did the same for Markus and me at the little cafe on the corner before you leave the village. Nice old geezers in Badolato, glad you accepted the 21st offer from a nice young one!

Blogger mental mosaic said...

How romantic!

I just moved to Napoli with my fiance & am loving the immersion. (And I'm blogging about it at mentalmosaic.com)

Your blog is captivating & beautiful. I will be back! :)

Tui

Blogger sognatrice said...

Eileen, exploit the coat love! Yes!

Waspg, I love these kinds of things too; I wish every blogger who has a meeting story would post it, in fact :)

Anon, I'm happy I did too, and I *know* that you can picture the whole scene. Not much changes around these parts, after all.

Mentalmosaic, glad to see you here! And glad to see you're blogging! Woohoo!

Blogger Italiana Americana said...

what a fabulous story!!!!! :) inspiring!

Blogger sognatrice said...

Italiana, glad you enjoyed :)

Blogger Gill said...

What a lovely romantic story

Blogger sognatrice said...

Thanks Gill!

Anonymous KG said...

What a great story! I love how the Universe often has more wonderfulness in store for us than we know.

Blogger sognatrice said...

KG, me too, me too!

Post a Comment

<< Home

footer