Apparently, I am infamously late for everything I do. Most of my friends are well aware of this issue, and either verbally express their contempt for my consistent tardiness or try to trick me into being on time by anticipating my tardiness with faux meeting times.
When it comes to business, work or anything job related, I try my best to prioritize and be punctual. Alarms are set. Clocks are tens of minutes in advance, but it still is a battle. Unfortunately, I have integrated that stereotypical Roman trait into my lifestyle. “Everyone is late in Rome,” so I lazily use the excuse that I have assimilated well into the culture.
Paulina won’t accept this “Roman way” as an excuse. She insists that I need to be on time. She bristles at how I have acquiesced to other idiosyncracies like taking an over-excessive amount of time to get any where, never committing to anything until the last minute, and living like a throw back to the 1880s—a complete lack of functional, modern technology and conveniences like answer machines, air conditioning, wifi and ice. Her main pet peeve is my no-worries acceptance of the problematic Poste Italiane.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” she said in reference to the birthday present she sent me that never arrived. (She sent it May for my June birthday. It is January.)
“It’s just the way it is. Sometimes things I send don’t ever arrive. There’s nothing I can do about it. If it comes, it comes.”
“Have you ever asked your postino?”
“Oh, she’s not responsible for the problem. It’s something to do with someone at some post office, but I have no idea how to find out. . . like I said, it will come, if it’s meant to come.”
Unfortunately, this laissez-faire, che sera sera attitude has not assuaged Paulina. Instead, she’s even more pissed off.
“So you are just going to accept that excuse??! Is that what Romans would do?” she said snidely.
Not exactly. They’d go to Vatican to send something. And to receive, they may consider, Kipoint. This franchise from the Gruppo Poste Italiane, believe or not, is also a reliable service for shipping, receiving and delivering.
Ah, the key point is in-city delivery. Some would call that lazy, I call it efficient. If I want to keep the friends I have by eliminating my tardiness potential, Kipoint’s mototaxi courier service is pretty cheap for deliveries. At the cost of 6 euro, the cute motorino guys get your busta where you want it to go. And provide receipts.
I was wondering if this was an American trait, this need for efficiency, until my cousin Giugi told me that she was getting annoyed with her boyfriend’s lack of initiative when it came to staying at her house. She decided to stop spoonfeeding him with visits after he called to tell her he had a gift for her, but she would have to come to his house to get it.
Her response: “Mandamelo con Speedy Boys.”