Venice


Wearing a straw boater and horizontal-striped shirt, the gondalier was lazing against the wall of a bridge. His shining gondala moored below. I asked him “how much for a ride?”
“Well,” he replied slowly, “there are several options. For thirty minutes you pay sixty Euro, for one hour you pay…”
I interrupted him, “Okay, maybe later”
“Later the pricer changer,” he responded
“Oh, depending on how busy you are?” I queried
“No,” he stated, “Later it changer.”
Of course he knew I’d never be able to find him again even if wanted to. “So it’s now or never,” I said.
“Si”, the gondolier broke into song, “It’s now or never, give it to me, just one cornetto…”

 

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