Every Boy's Got One

Travel Diary of Jane Harris

Travel Diary of Holly Caputo and Mark Levine

Jane Harris

The horror continues.

As soon as Cal got up to go use the facilities himself just now, I told Mark if he was any kind of friend he’d tell Cal to stay home at the villa with me (even though I don’t want him there, as it will mean spending the day alone with him while Holly and Mark are off US consulating tomorrow, but whatever). Also, that he should tell Cal his shirt looks gay. Mark pointed out that he had already encouraged Cal to stay home to no avail, and that the shirt is from Bangladesh and it’s the only clean thing left in Cal’s backpack. Apparently, he’s sweet-talked Frau Schumacher into doing his laundry while we eat.

I can’t believe he’d take advantage of that sweet old lady’s crush on him in such an obvious manner, even if he DID give her ten euros for her trouble, according to Mark.

Still.

At least the food is good. REALLY good. Even when it’s prepared by someone who won’t take their eyes off Babe. Although Cal and I both eschewed the raw oysters, Cal because he doesn’t like them, and me because I may be a travel neophyte, but I am not eating raw fish in a foreign country. Holly and Mark were both like, “Oh, well, more for us,” and slurped down like twenty each.

Whatever. It’s their funeral.

After this, since it’s stopped raining, we’re going to get gelati from the Gelateria and take a moonlit walk along the beach. Romantic! Well, for Holly and Mark.

Uh-oh, back to the Who’s Going To Rome Tomorrow argument….

Who buys their shirts in BANGLADESH??? What is wrong with the Gap, for God’s sake?

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