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Meet Cute

February 5, 2024

There wasn't a whole lot going on this week; I spent my time studying with friends at the café, reading, and playing all the daily New York Times games. So, for this week's update, I'll tell a short story about something out of the ordinary that happened...


 

On Tuesday there was a break from the constant fog Piacenza has been suffocating in. I looked outside at the (rare) blue sky, and decided it was a good day for a run.


I usually don’t run on Tuesdays. I usually don’t do much on Tuesdays, actually. But I felt inspired, so I laced up my shoes, put my headphones on, and headed out. I started on my normal route, but within the first 200 meters I almost got hit by a bus and a semi truck, so I decided to go a different way to avoid being killed.


I started running in the opposite direction towards a trail I’d walked on before, but, being directionally challenged, couldn’t quite remember how to get there. I weaved through a couple of streets.


I felt energetic, like I could run for miles. It was a beautiful day to be alive! A beautiful day to run!! I started picking up speed, then my music suddenly stopped playing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a small, white flash. It was my right AirPod, flying out of my ear and bouncing across the street. It built momentum, and I watched as it headed towards the sewage grate.


Time turned into slow motion as it fell right in.


“Of course on the ONE Tuesday I try to run, I lose a headphone”, I said to myself as I calmly walked across the street to bid it farewell.


As I approached the sewage grate, I saw it resting just a little ways below. There was hope!


I tentatively stuck my hand in, trying to reach it. I was a centimeter from it, but couldn’t get any further. I tried again at a different angle, only to bruise the back of my hand. I looked up and saw two cars waiting for me, a crazy American wearing athletic gear, to get out of the road. I moved out of the way, and tried to call a friend who lived nearby to ask for some tweezers. She didn’t answer, so I resolved to try to reach for it one more time before heading back to my own apartment to get some tools. As I bent down to the grate the third time, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.


I looked up to find an Italian man wearing a uniform, looking at me with dark eyes that were full of concern.


Hai bisogno di aiuto?” he asked.


I blinked.


Hai bisogno di aiuto?” he asked again.


I snapped back into it. “Oh! Uhhhm... No. Uh, si! Uhh, no parlo italiano” I fumbled back.


He smiled and gestured for me to follow him. I did.


He lead us toward a farmacia, where I assumed we’d be getting tweezers, but then he stopped abruptly when we reached a white van.


“I’m about to be kidnapped”, I thought. But then I noticed the van had advertisements for home improvements on its doors. I took a second look at his uniform to see that it was not, in fact, a police uniform, but a repairman one.


He reached into the trunk and pulled out a toolbox and some pliers, then we walked back over to the grate.


10 seconds, and 11 grazie’s later, I had my AirPod back.


 

Now, as real as this story is, it wasn't actually a “meet cute”. But wouldn’t it have been fun if it was!?



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