I had a typical aupair girl - day. Discussions about homework and limiting playstation and computer-time with the eight year old Guido. When Clarissa his Mom came from work I decided to spend the rest of my evenning in my favourite caffeteria.
My favourite caffeteria, crosspoint of lovestories, gossip and scandal, the location of quarells and happy-ends was the „Edison“.
A book-shop with integrated caffeteria on the second floor.
This evenning all guys were already sitting around a table. Lazaros a Greek, who had better german knowledge than italian knowledge. Ahmed, an Algerian, who I called „Smily“, because he grinned brightly continously. When I translated him my nickname he grinned even brighter. Just nice.
Pasquale, a small Italian from the southern part of the country. Someone, who was always a bit nervous and jittery. He was always a bit nervous and jittery because he was always looking for tall and attractive blond girls from Europe or North America. Himself was small and lank. A fact which did not irritate him at all flirting with northeuropean and american girls with well developed breasts. He had quite success and hesitated never when a girl woke up his hunting instinct. It was a pity for Letizia, his girl-friend. He might notice his obvious behaviour, but he tried to ignore it. Pasquale, small with darkblack, dishewelled hair had the tendency to get slightly out of balance when he argued with one of his, so called „friends“. This tendency and his simpleheartedness were the properties to make him attractive or at least to seem sweet for some girl.
And Lilli, a Chinese, who looked for some entertainment after finishing his job as cleaning-woman in a Hotel. She came to Italy because she has been curios. She colletected happyly any new word in the foreign language and was laughing after every word-joke, told by one of the guys. Everytime, when one of the guys shoke his shoulders, answearing a question, she started giggling. Shoking the sholders as a reaction to saying „I don´t know“ is not used in China.
And than he arrived, finally. Vito. A sixty-five year old, small, podgy Italian from Bari. With a peaked cap on his had, his drawing stuff in his left hand, looking around with clever eyes. He sat down at our table, without loosing time to greet anyone. He had already started to draw. What? No, I am asking better who? Because Vito is the most famous drawer of portraits at Florence. So, at least the most famous drawer of portraits at the "Edison". He had discovered a girl – again. A pretty „bella bionda“. She notices the awareness of herself quite quickly. First she is looking shyly directing her view on the floor made of marble. The artist is telling her to look at him. He is know lauding her beautyness continously. This encourages her. She is rising her view and is smiling at him. He emphasise his lauding. She starts to enjoy the situation. She shakes her head slightly. Her golden hair is blowing in the air. The artist is putting on the finishing touches. He is giving her the master piece. Vito has made a girl happy – again.
Vito, a real Italian.
Now I will describe him in this poet, for everone who would like to know him even better, but also, and maybe in first line, for everyone who knows him personally:
Chi é Vito?
Vito é uno che scherza.
Vito é uno che parla.
Vito é uno che pensa.
Vito é uno che dice quello che pensa.
Vito é uno che ride.
...ride anche se nessuno sa perche...
Perché la vita é una briosce!
Who is Vito?
Vito is someone, who kidds.
Vito is someone, who talks.
Vito is someone, who thinks.
Vito is someone, who says, what he thinks.
Vito is someone, who laughs,
...laughs, also if nobodys knows, why...
Because, life is a vanilla-cream-croissant!