Set the Record Straight

(Kiera, Katie, Mel, Heath: Bobali Gardens, Florence, Italy)

Several times in the past week, people have brought up the topic of funny/embarrassing stories. I will admit, of course I get embarrassed but it quickly goes away because i realize how funny it actually is.

THIS certain story came to mind earlier in the week when my friend Tyler IM'ed me and said "I just heard the funniest story, and it may or may not have included you." Hmm, I racked my brain because well, I've done a lot of stupid/funny things in my life, and I was wondering from which one I needed to defend myself! The only thing I could get out of him was "you and a boy in Italy." Uh-oh. It is pretty odd and has the potential to sound a lot worse than I think it was. So, to set the record straight here is the story:

My sophomore year in college a few friends of mine (photo above) decided that it was our turn to go venture out into the world. First place we chose? Italy. I remember my brother asking me why we chose Italy and we just thought... why not?! It's as good a place to start as any right? So, we began making plans- I even got a ghetto job on campus flipping burgers to save money for our adventure (and promptly quit once I had enough.) Soon enough, finals were over, we all packed-up and after our friend Jess' wedding, we changed our clothes and were off to the airport at 12am. It was an adventure and of course has led to many inside jokes.

This certain situation happened in our second week in Italy when we were on the coastal island of Ischia. We were staying in a hotel where we were the youngest people by about 60 years and... we weren't German. We definitely got a lot of odd looks that week, but none more than our last night there. We had gone out for a walk to enjoy the warm weather, old men singing away and the amazing architecture. Oh, and, of course the joke/dream of any American girl: to find a good looking Italian guy. My friend Katie decided to be proactive about finding boys for Heather and myself. How you ask? She began hissing at two guys that walked by us. I can still see so clearly in my mind, the direct U-turn the boys took upon hearing her cat call (and my mortified face when she did it.) They came to talk to us, but the problem was... Heath was the only one who spoke Italian and my Spanish only went so far.

We all decided to grab something to eat then they wanted to go to the beach. Problem? Only one car and 6 people. One of the boys, we will call him Boy #2, had a Vespa and for some odd reason chose ME to ride on it with him. Hm, why not? In Italy, good looking man, coastal beaches to look at... ends up Italian guys are quite the charmers! The whole drive to the beach he was singing away to me in Italian, kept kissing my hand and talking to me as if I knew what he was saying. Of course I didn't but it was fantastic!

We arrived at the beach walked around for awhile. It wasn't very late but we all knew we had to get out of this situation somehow. So, we said we had to go home and pack, which now that I recall...we weren't even leaving the next day! The guys finally agreed to take us home- phew. Heath, Kiera, Katie and Boy #1 pile in the car simultaneous to Boy #2 putting on his helmet so we could leave on the Vespa. However, as soon as Boy #1 took off in his car... Boy #2 leaps up, rips off his helmet and begins kissing me. Hmm... okay!" I thought. "I'm fine with this... for a little bit." However, I also had this feeling "Melinda, you speak no Italian, you don't know where your friends are and have no idea where you are". So, I kept saying "a casa, a casa." Regretfully he would say okay... and go about 2-3 minutes until he found some excuse to pull over. i.e. He wanted to buy me gelato, I needed food for my trip or he just wanted to kiss me. Each time I would just shake my head and say "a casa, a casa." I will also admit at this point... I had to pee really, really bad. So, sure he was good looking, and hello he was Italian...but 1) he smoked (big surprise there, I think its their favorite past-time beside soccer) and 2) i had to pee!!!

After about 5 pit stops, we finally pulled up to my hotel- where all the old Germans were soon to be scandalized from their view on the front porch sipping lemonade. Boy #2 pulls of his helmet, puts his sunglasses in my hand (to keep as a token of our love or something?!) and began kissing me again. "Fine," I thought, "just for a minute." But I SERIOUSLY had to pee.

I'm not sure how I got out of it, but eventually I did and quickly ran by all the aghast onlookers. I ran to our room only to discover I had somehow beat the other girls home! How did I possibly beat them home? I was bursting, I had no key and could not wait any longer. What should I do? I couldn't go back out front... I couldn't pick the lock... so, yes folks, I at the age of 21 went into a Turkish bath, pulled up my skirt and peed in the water.

Now THAT is the whole story... and I'm sticking to it.

*and lest you think similar things have happened on my other
various travels; I never kiss and tell.
(but it hasn't)