This is my first drunken post.
I've been watching Travel Channel shows. They arrived in the mail from Netflix. That's right people. I used my mail-ins to watch travel shows.
Gawd I love Netflix. And I love travel shows. And I love libations.
While I'm watching my travel shows that arrived via Netflix, I'm sucking back Limoncello of Sorrento from my beloved Italy.
It's empty. (Burp)
Already this post has been corrected over and over for typos. Geezus this Limoncello of Sorrento is STRONG. Or I'm a lightweight. Or both.
I hope I don't pass out before clicking "Publish Post."
In May, I was in Sorrento... home to the lovely limoncello I'm currently consuming. I was nauseated from the bus ride up the coast. On that bus ride at 7 a.m., we went by Enrico's fruit market. He was outside wheeling and dealing with a farmer who drove up in a blue truck with a load of yellow lemon. I'm not kidding. My little Postitano "boyfriend" was a big wig fruit distributor of the Amalfi Coast. Some girls get Vespas. Others get Chanel. I got fruit.
If you read the post, Enrico was my nearly-love-affair in Postitano, Italy. He wooed me with platters of cherries and watched me eating them as if I were a porn star. He also let me in on the whole mafia thing, which is an exceptional moment for any tourist. There is nothing like the moment when you say to your Italian love interest:
"Why do they call you the Fruit Mafia King?"
And he stops laughing, stares right into your eyes, grabs your arms a bit too forcefully and says very seriously in very slow, very articulate English, "Mafia are good people. They take care of their family. You come back in September. I take care of you. You don't have to do anything, but you have to be my woman."
How do you say in Italian, "Yeah... ummm... you know... I've got this corporate job back in Los Angeles and we only get two weeks vacation... gotta accrue those hours... ummmm... and I take a week to visit my family in Canada over Christmas... sooooo, I don't know if another trip to Postitano is exactly in the cards, especially the coast... have you been on that bus? I nearly upchucked my salami sandwich. Plus, ummm... if I were coming back to Italy, I'm more of a Rome-type girl."
In all honesty, I smiled at him, thanked him bashfully for the cherries, then laughingly grabbed my travel companion Aine by the arm, dragged her to the bathroom, pinned her against the wall and said very seriously in very slow, very articulate English, "Are you aware that we are hanging out with the Italian fucking Mafia?!"
So that was Positano.
Where was I? Oh ya. Sorrento.
I'm all over the place.
Anyway, I rented these Travel Channel shows because I miss Italy. Have you ever been to a place and missed it as if it was your home? I miss my family in Canada, but I miss a home in a place I've never lived.
Has this ever happened to you? Please advise. And while you're advising, I'm going to scrounge around the kitchen. I think I saw some prosecco in there somewhere.