My friend Dennis and I were walking the Via Veneto one summer night. We had been working at the U.S. Embassy in Rome supporting President Clinton's upcoming visit honoring the 50th anniversary of the Anzio invasion and, of course, enjoying much of what the Eternal City offers. We chose a side street for our restaurant prowl and discovered a lovely, out-of-the-way bistro. We sat at the tiny bar, ordered drinks and a light meal, thoroughly reveling in the joyous nature of the patrons.
When it came time to pay the bill, however, the bartender motioned that he could not take our lira. He called over an English-speaking friend who informed us that we had unwittingly crashed a private wedding party. "So that's why we were getting blank stares every now and then," I thought. As it turned out, each side thought we were guests of the other side. We apologized and started to leave, but our new friends would have no part of such a decision. They invited us to drink some champagne, enjoy a piece of cake, and dance. And so we did!
When it came time to pay the bill, however, the bartender motioned that he could not take our lira. He called over an English-speaking friend who informed us that we had unwittingly crashed a private wedding party. "So that's why we were getting blank stares every now and then," I thought. As it turned out, each side thought we were guests of the other side. We apologized and started to leave, but our new friends would have no part of such a decision. They invited us to drink some champagne, enjoy a piece of cake, and dance. And so we did!