Thursday, August 8, 2013

Martini Mission in Montepulciano

We were on a mission all day to find a martini glass my father bought in Montepulciano ten years ago that has since broken. We are now convinced there is not a SINGLE martini glass to be found in all of Italy. We waited for one shop to re-open after “riposo” (that quiet time when things shut down). The shopkeeper was late, and while we waited, I leaned on the glass door to his shop. The sunblock on my arm left two huge smudges on the glass that caught his eye the second he returned. Luckily, I was standing across the street at this point—mortified to see him notice the big smears! I felt terrible but was convinced by my family not to run over and apologize. I am very glad I didn’t because he was a perfect ASS to us when we went in. We politely gave him a few minutes before descending upon him, even though he was 15 minutes late. No martini glasses. Never had them. He did, however, have some glassware that reminded me of the style of the martini glass, so I asked if he would mind if I took a photo of the little tag on one of the pieces so I could research if they made martini glasses. He said Si, he would, in fact, mind. What’s that Italian hand gesture that means !@#$%^&*? 


These photos are of Montepulciano and have nothing to do with the aforementioned ass.



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Tuscan hills in the distance. Placing the camera on the wall, set with a timer, restricted our angle, forcing us to feature more body and less scenery than I would have liked.





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Montepulciano Piazza.





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Even the ugly stuff is eye-catching in a not-unattractive way.





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I so wish I could have evesdropped. They talked animatedly for quite a while. What might they have been discussing? Some kind of service interruption—electric, water, gas…..A parade that’s shutting down the street later that day… or one that shut it down earlier? A mutual friend?  How ‘bout that Brunelli we had last night? I love a man in uniform. I love a woman dressed as a flamingo. You talkin ta me?





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Kitty in a cage. He was not pleased with my advances.





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Fred droppings!! His camera…..little foldable stool…. sketching supplies….. hmm… Fred Lynch is in our midst.





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LOVE THIS!!! To think a wine store might, in fact, have a self-service bar! Point me in that direction!




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