Wine and snacks - Italian style

I’m sitting in the most wonderful café in the world. I ordered a glass of wine, and they came with a tray of snacks – olives, black and green, crisps, small toasted sandwiches. Wonderful. I’m hiding out from the rest of the conference posse who are waiting outside the theatre where the ballet show is that we’ve all been invited to. I’m sick of them and they, I think, are sick of me. Funny how that happens. Just because I need these people to talk to me as if we were friends, I somehow expect them to enter into discussion with me on a similarly eager note. And then I remember, always at about this stage of the conference, that they actually are quite nervous around me. It's like realising you're the smelly kid at school. And I guess, I'm a backstabber. I want them to open to me so that I can use them. And when they realise, they get hurt.

Now I got the bill. 3 euro for that!!! I can't believe it. I'm returning. Definitely.