Damsel in Distress


Imagine wearing your bathing suit and then cover yourself in a wet, wooly blanket. Yep, that’s pretty much what it feels like this summer in Liguria.

It was Friday night and I decided to put a dress on and go meet some friends in the city. I had a sweaty glow (read=dripping, sticky mess) and my hair was already starting to curl wildly at the ends (Krusty the Clown-like). I quickly dropped by my apartment to pick up the Peppa Pig ball I bought over a month ago for my friend. I don’t know what it is about that ball, but I had forgotten to bring it along numerous times and kept tripping over it thinking when will I ever remember to give this to Ari?

Finally, with the ball in one hand and my car keys in the other, I headed out the door…bam! Feck! Where are my house keys! Yes, you guessed it, sitting on the table, next to the door, inside. Seriously? Did I just do that on a Friday night in the dead of summer?

Luckily, I had just spent a weekend with Helen Kerrison…when you’re in her presence, it’s like drinking a large cup of camomile tea. She has this way of seeing things that stops me from losing my cool (remember that I’m a hot, humid, sticky mess and just spent an hour in a non air-conditioned car). Would I be late for my plans to meet Ari? Yes. Will I have to pay a locksmith a small fortune to get back into my house? Maybe. Well, if that’s the worse that could happen then I think I’ll be ok. Breathe…Zen…Breathe.

Just by chance, I thought I would drive over to Mama’s to see if there was still the spare set of keys I had left there months ago but in the back of my mind I remember clearly taking those keys and giving them to Elora when she visited in June and now they are sitting on a shelf, next to the door, inside my house 😦

Mama suggested I call the Vigili del Fuoco aka Fire Department. She even gave me their number. I hesitated. My house isn’t on fire, I’m just absent minded and did a stupid thing (that stupid Peppa Pig ball is out to get me). There is no crying baby inside…will they even come? And, will I be sitting here for hours waiting because there’s no crying baby inside? But wait, that’s a good thing because if there was a crying baby inside, I WOULD BE FREAKING OUT!

leah on phone

Ok, so I called them. It was actually a really pleasant experience too. I explained who I was, they asked if I had identification. It got complicated.
“Do you own the house?”
“No.”
“Is the address on your residency card the same as the house?”
“No.”
“Why do you want to get in?”
“Ummm, because I LIVE HERE.”
“Ok, can you prove that? Do you have a lease agreement with your name on it?”
“Oh yeah, I do…INSIDE THE HOUSE.”
We both laughed.

A minute later my phone rang…
“Signora Amsong?”
“Yeah, close enough.”
“The Vigili are on their way”
“Great. I’m waiting in my car, should I wait outside in front of my house?”
“Well you will see them coming in a big, red truck, so no, you can wait in your car”
I laughed, of course!

Ten minutes later a huge fire truck and red car pulled up my road. I waved and sheepishly smiled at my embarrassing mistake (the entire neighbourhood are now watching from their balconies). They laughed and waved back. Four big, burly men entered my building and I lead them up to my door. Within thirty seconds it was opened! We went inside, I grabbed my documents and showed them my lease (I’m an organizational freak so I had the lease out in one minute). They smiled and asked me if I had dinner plans 🙂

I can’t tell you how grateful I was. And it could have been so much worse. I had no crying baby inside and I wasn’t standing out in the corridor with my slippers on, in a dirty t-shirt and no bra with dirty hair either (I was just a humid, sweaty mess in a dress instead). I have always loved Firefighters, it’s such an honourable job. And if these guys have a Christmas Calendar I’m going to buy ten copies this year. For charity of course 😉 What were you thinking?

 

 

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About lmarmstrong66

I'm a blogger, painter, writer, singer. For the love of all things in nature and creativity.
This entry was posted in Italian Culture, Mama and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Damsel in Distress

  1. Dave Bellows says:

    Leah, It could only happen to you.

    On Sat, Jul 26, 2014 at 9:13 AM, Help! I live with my Italian mother

  2. lhsh2014 says:

    Oh Leah you have the most entertaining posts. It sounds like everything is an adventure and hope you are doing well otherwise.

  3. Diana says:

    I do this kind of stuff all the time…now i am happy to know i can call the vigili! glad all ended well.

  4. ytaba36 says:

    I wish our firemen would offer such a service here Down Under. Now I have to search for what a Peppa Pig ball looks like. Reading blogs can be so educational!

    • Hahaha, you’re not alone! I didn’t know what a Peppa Pig was either before meeting Ari. It is a British cartoon and they seem to be all over Italy. I have yet to watch an episode though…

  5. Di says:

    Love love love this 🙂 The ambulance came for me once, in Genova, and I appreciated their kindness, immensely.

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