Italian hospitality

Ciao,

I just wanted to mention something funny that happened Tuesday at breakfast. It was around 10 am and I was minding my own business, eating my yogurt, when I heard a knock at the door. Maria Pia was rushing to get ready to go somewhere at 10:30, but she ran to the door and answered it. From my spot at the table, I couldn't see our visitor, but I knew he was trying to sell something. Maria Pia talked to him for about 3 minutes, but I wasn't really paying attention. Next thing I knew, he came inside! I guess Maria Pia invited him in, but I wasn't sure.

When I finally saw him, I thought he looked to be about my age, and I'm pretty sure he thought the same as he perked up when he saw me. He immediately came over and shook my hand, and wouldn't stop looking at me! I was thinking to myself, "What the heck is Maria Pia trying to do to me!?" I WAS going to eat my breakfast in peace, but that changed. After he offered me a job doing whatever boring thing he was here doing and I politely declined, he gave my face a rest and talked to Maria Pia. I went back to my breakfast and didn't really listen to the conversation. But, a little while in, I started to hear Maria Pia's voice raise, and I knew that she was frustrated. So, then I listened! He was trying incredibly (and desperately) hard to sell her these books. She explained that she had let him in because she has a "weak heart for young people that try so hard to make money," but that she didn't want to buy anything that was going to be sent to her house, and that she was never going to read. This kid would not take no for an answer, so they kept arguing and cutting each other off with their own explanations. It was pretty funny.

When the kid finally threw in the towel and Maria Pia was ready to push him out the door, he bid farewell to me and then Maria Pia quickly changed her tone to Italian Mom... "Have you eaten anything today? Did you have breakfast?" I chuckled at that. Yes, he had eaten breakfast, but I loved that Maria Pia was so aggravated with him and still felt the need to offer him, a complete (and creepy) stranger, something to eat. That's great Italian hospitality.