Saturday, May 04, 2013

Social anxiety
This week I finally broke down and cried to one of my coworkers that all of the being frozen out is actually wearing on me. I picked this woman who has a really kind face and works in the publicity office. Then I found out that she is the fancy gym owner's daughter. That was shocking, but on the other hand it means that people stop talking when she enters a room, as well. I couldn't face trying to bond with everyone at the casino royale night since I can never remember how to play blackjack and I hate counting very very much. She did convince me to that I had to come out to the fitness fair in Rimini next weekend and gave me her spot in the car with this trainer named Andrea (in Italy that is a boy name, like Andrew) and when I told him that he seemed less than thrilled and this other young woman trainer looked absolutely appalled when she found out, but oh well. On the other hand, I have gotten some really sweet notes on Facebook from clients who are really enjoying the class and may cause a ruckus if my contract is not renewed in September.
This is Alessandra.
Last night I accepted an invitation from Alessandra, one of my gym clients, to her brother-in-law's weekly party at a popular restaurant outside of town. Alessandra is tall and has super short bleached blond hair and she has been a huge supporter and has even brought her mother, a very good sport, to my class. After the pre-fixe dinner at Villa Papao in Capannori, they pull away the tables and a DJ starts a dance party. Alessandra's brother-in-law throws glitter on people, hands out star bracelets filled with LED lights and generally encourages people to whoop it up.

At night this place is a different animal altogether, but so are we all.


It was a weird scene with families, single young people, children and some elderly folks all shaking their groove thang to the Italian classics. Alessandra's sister and her kids were there. And all of the other couples on our side of the table brought their kids who ran around and never actually joined us at the table. One completely separated section of the restaurant is reserved for latin dancing and the couples were all adorable people some who were younger, but mostly older couples who had probably taken some classes together. Alessandra called it una tristezza which means sad.

Our DJ!
 It is not good to be ageist, but I am beginning to think that when you see a DJ over the age of 50 it is a really bad sign. It turned out that Alessandra is known by everyone there including all the wait staff and helps get things rolling by dancing on the table. Unfortunately, I had a really bad cold headache and the overly sweet prosecco and overly filling gnocchi didn't help matters, but in the end I found the energy to dance even after having worked out for three hours during the day. Alessandra and her friend Alida knew the words and gestures to every single song and so that makes things more fun even though I didn't kow any of them. My plan was to try to make it until 11:30 which Alessandra said was cool with her since she had to wake up at 6,00 AM for work today. But she was my ride and so I got home at 1,30 AM. Someone called the carabinieri because of a fight and so there were rumors of tons of breathalizer tests and the restaurant managers wouldn't let us leave until we had a sit down for fifteen minutes even though Alessandra had only had a few sips of prosecco the whole night. I had put my tiny wristlet purse in her big one when we were dancing and then at the end of the night she took it out, forgot to give it to me and left it on the table. We figured out that it was missing just when we finally had the all clear to leave.

This morning my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth and right elbow was ringing, but other than that I seem to have survived.

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