For my friend Jeff, instant messaging is his best medium. Same with my friend Bruce. They are both fast typers that can zing witty retorts in seconds.
My sister Julie, her best medium is cooking.
My sister Carla, hers is baking.
My friend Sharon, it's texting. She's excelled at this since the advent of the iPhone.
My friend Cooper, online photo albums. His captions are even better than the photos.
Me? You put me in a room of men and I will be the mayor of that room's ass in mere minutes. I will have them drooling and laughing and fantasizing. They will be trying to get their hands all over me and I will have them eating out of the palm of mine. Literally if I want.
Which begs the question, "Janice, why are you still single?"
I really don't know. I guess because I'm so good at it.
My mother says it's because I'm picky. I'm really not. I've dated a few nimrods in my time.
I think I'm single because with time and luck and hopefully some divine intervention, it will all come together somehow. Whatever it is, I'm not too stressed about it at the moment... probably because I've just been fed a buffet of Italians.
I bring this up because in Rome, flirting is as ingrained in the culture as gelato and the Catholic church. It's just how it is. Men live for the back and forth witty chit chat. And ya, they live for a little innuendo here and there. It doesn't have to be real, it just has to be fun. They are all about a good laugh. Nothing is forever. Everything is fleeting. It's all about a good time in the moment.
Coming back to Los Angeles, I'm left with a few lingering bits of eye contact and shy smiles from my suitors. I feel like shaking them and saying, "Is that all you've got? C'mon! Give me something to work with here!"
Naturally, I now want to move to Rome.
When I told my mom I had fun in Rome she said, "Well I suppose you want to move there now, too, just like when you wanted to move to Maui."
She's not wrong. It's true. I did want to move to Maui after my vacation there this spring. And I wanted to move to Paris after my vacation last spring. So could Rome be just another fantasy?
I don't think so. I don't think so because Rome and I share the same word.
Elizabeth Gilbert, in her book Eat Pray Love, explains that each city in the world has a word that defines it. Our job is match ourselves up with the city that has the same word as ourselves and then live in that city. For example, she explains, New York is Achieve while Los Angeles is Succeed. Similar but quite different, too. I think Toronto is Scholastic because everyone is into reading and being intellectual. Berkeley is probably Activism... I've never been so scared as the day I went to a peace rally in Berkeley. Peace rally participants are an angry bunch.
Gilbert states that Rome's word is Sex. I beg to differ. I think it's Flirt. They are, after all, Catholic and many of them still live with their mommas so the sex isn't as easy or as regular as flirting. And my waiters weren't going to have sex with me, but they sure wanted to flirt with me... even the 70-year-old waiter who gave me a big smooch on the cheek outside the bathroom at the back of the restaurant. Flirt. That's Rome's word.
Flirt might be my word, too, which means Rome and I were meant for each other.
The mayor of this town's ass.
What's your word?