Tag silly stuff

Typical Italian fashion 2

Dear Bradshaw,

I had crossed Ponte Garibaldi and was five steps across Via Lungotevere Raffaello Sanzio when the light turned red and though I’d usually have dashed across anyway there were police officers directing traffic so I returned to the curb.

A woman standing as stiff and erect as a stop sign was watching me. As I went to stand next to her, she puffed her cheeks, shook her head, and said, “Anyway, the light was red.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets, “but this is Rome, after all.” continue reading »

48 people like this post.

Checker champion of the world 0

Dear Bradshaw,

I was sitting on bus 492, waiting for the driver to return from his break and then transport me to my three o’clock lesson near Piazza Navona. I had just opened my book and started to read when someone in the seat behind me asked, “How long has the bus been here?”

I turned to face a chubby guy wearing a Superman T-shirt and thick-rimmed glasses. He was in his late twenties and had cropped brown hair and a constellation of zits spotting his cheeks and chin.

“About five minutes,” I said, and then continued reading, but he tapped me on the shoulder and I turned around again. continue reading »

16 people like this post.

It’s hot, it’s humid, and I’m here 0

Dear Bradshaw,

Boy is it hot! Blame it on whatever — the sun, global warming, a surplus of cosmic combustion — but blame won’t cool the air. No sir! continue reading »

15 people like this post.

The single-most painful part 1

Dear Bradshaw,

I saw people doing this on facebook about a year ago and, racking my brain for things to write you about, I thought I’d give it a go. So for whatever it’s worth, here are twenty-five things about me that (almost) nobody else knows: continue reading »

6 people like this post.

Time, inflation, and the future 1

Dear Bradshaw,

I’ve been thinking lately and have come to the conclusion that, to the best of my knowledge, you live only once. And, well, the thing is, if this is my only shot, my only chance at being a big cheese, I’d like to be a millionaire. I don’t mean forever, mind you, I’d just like to try it out for a bit, like trying on a pair of designer jeans to see how I look even though I know I could never afford them. continue reading »

5 people like this post.

Scott Sussman is powered by WordPress and FREEmium Theme.