Tag Archives: Shopping

An eventful uneventful weekend; A supermarket open every day in Milan; Dog walking

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Well, it didn’t really last long. Three days, in fact. Still, it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?

Isn’t it? Tell me ‘yes’, please?

Well sort of.

It was an uneventful yet eventful weekend. I mean to say, for most people almost uneventful. For me, quite major things were done.

In particular, I am talking about sewing.

Yes, this post may not be the most exciting ever. Please look away now if you are afraid it might be boring. If you do read it, you can’t then say I didn’t warn you. And it is looooong!

I am, as you may know (or have guessed), a gay man. Actually, an old, gay man. But I’m not really your typical ‘gay’. I am, as N would say, quite a straight, gay man. An old, straight, gay man.

I don’t sew. Well, I do but only when I have to and we’re talking simple things here. Buttons and stuff. Buttons are hard. But not as hard as real sewing. But, like ironing and cleaning, they take me a long time. And, just like ironing and cleaning, if I can, I put it off.

So, all the shirts that I had that lost a button or ripped or needed some sort of repair had been, over the last (OMG! I just realised over the last 18 months or two years!!) ahem, period of time, had been hung in a special part of the wardrobe.

But, I was ‘running out’ of workshirts and having to use the ones that F had bought for me. So, on Saturday morning I said to him that I was going to have to go out and buy some. And then, I thought, of course, I’ve probably got a couple that just need buttons so I should do them first and then I would know how many I really needed.

So, Saturday morning, after F left to go to his place and ‘tidy up a bit’, I thought OK, I’ll do it or, at least, look to see how many I could ‘reclaim’.

I really didn’t realise how much stuff I had in that wardrobe. It was a shock. I started looking at the shirts. Putting the ones which had ripped (usually on the sleeve or under the arm) in one pile as these were, probably, irreclaimable (at least with my level of expertise at sewing) and the ones that missed just a button (or two or three), in another.

There were 7 shirts that were reclaimable. It was a big surprise but welcome, nonetheless.

I started. It was cold in my kitchen. I found that threading the needle, normally a process that takes about 15 minutes for me, seemed to be easier than usual. This was a good sign. I found buttons in my little ‘button store’. And, where I couldn’t find the right ones, I found them attached to the shirts, at the bottom. Or I found one that was very similar.

I progressed well, completing the first one in about half an hour. That’s how slow I am. One down and 6 more to go. After the second one, I was finding it difficult. My fingers, hardly as nimble as they were, seemed to be ‘not working’. It was far too cold. I put on some gas rings on the cooker. It would soon warm up the flat or, at least, the kitchen.

The washing machine was on. I think I was doing towels. Or jeans. Something which meant a full spin at top speed.

I did another shirt. (Exciting, isn’t it?)

I decided to have a break from sewing. I took the three shirts that I had done to hang them in the wardrobe (they were already ironed). On the way back (not that it’s a truly long distance but it’s still true since between the bedroom and the kitchen I go through every other room in the flat – apart, that is, from the bathroom – however, the bathroom is on the way back to the kitchen), I stopped off in the bathroom.

I’m standing there, having a pee (I know you may not want to know this but it is material evidence for the next bit) and I hear a sudden crash from the kitchen. The washing machine is in full spin.

There’s not a lot I can really do, standing there as I am. It’s just not possible to turn off the tap, so to speak. (See, I told you it was material to the story). I finish and walk into the kitchen.

The trays which are on top of the microwave, which is on top of the washing machine were the things that caused the ‘crash’. They have fallen onto the cooker. With them, obviously, are the things that are on the trays. Not much, normally, but F, in one of his ‘tidy up’ moods last week, had moved all the stuff that was with my computer on the kitchen table, onto the trays.

This included some paperwork, some CDs, some DVDs, some pens and some other associated ‘junk’.

You may remember (it was on a few paragraphs back) that I mentioned turning on the gas rings to heat up the kitchen a bit? Well they are gas and, therefore, flames and, sort of, flames tend to do things to pieces of paperwork, plastic CD holders, plastic trays, etc.
To pieces of paper, even bank notes, they tend to send them up in flames. To CD and DVD boxes, the tend to melt them before setting them on fire.

The kitchen was full of flames. Well, the cooker was full of flames and not all from the burners.

I don’t know what happens sometimes in times of crisis. Usually, I react quite well. Sometimes, though, my brain doesn’t seem to work. For a moment or two I blew on the flames, trying to put them out. It almost worked but for one small but very important fact. I couldn’t blow the burners out, of course, and so blowing the flame on a piece of paper out had the effect of it going out for a split second before reigniting itself from the burner.

Hmmm.

At the same time as blowing, I start to move things (well, move isn’t quite the right word – more like grab and chuck) from the cooker hob to the sink which, luckily, was full of water for washing up, the washing up being in the water and not having been done by now because I am on that long, horrible job of sewing.

I do remember thinking that this really wasn’t the best day for this (but, then, when would be?). Not only am I sewing but it is also too cold for me. And I’ve had a bad week at work.

And my tooth hurts.

Although this may seem like a long time for me to ‘do the right thing’, in reality, of course, it was seconds. Seconds before I realised that, of course, before trying to extinguish the flames I should, in all probability, turn off the hob rings.

I do. Then I am blowing and throwing stuff at the sink at the same time.

The CD/DVD cases have started sticking to the black covers over the gas rings. And sticking to each other. In that plastic burned way. They also go into the sink along with the washing up.

I’m thinking that a wet CD/DVD is invariably better than a totally warped one.

I start to clean up the cooker. I fish things out of the water. Some bits of paper have fared better than others. Some now have no writing on. It seems pointless to keep them without anything on them, their meaning lost to the water. I hang others in various places to dry.
I start separating CD cases. The CDs themselves, look OK. I will have to try them. Possibly when they are no longer wet.

The plastic box full of blank DVDs is difficult to open since bits of the plastic seems to have become welded together. I prise the lid open. The DVDs themselves, seem OK. We shall see. Again, perhaps better to check when they are dry.

I make a cup of tea. There is irrational fear in turning on one of the gas rings to boil the water. I mean – REALLY irrational. There is nothing on the microwave any more. It all went onto the rings, into flames or was melted, then the water, then the drainer for drying out or thrown away for being of no use any more.

I have tea.

I re-start my sewing.

I finish the shirts. There are a couple of pairs of jeans that also need repair. They are my favourite jeans. They need repair because I am not sticking to my wine diet very well. And, also because the jeans were always quite ‘tight’ – even before I had need of any wine diet! One of them has come apart where the buttons were. It was either that or the buttons. The sewing gave first. I sew that up. Not well but, I hope, quite ‘strongly’. The other pair were not so lucky. The second button down – since they are not really buttons but those stud buttons you get on jeans – sheared in two. I have a stud from some other pair of jeans. I fix that in and hammer it together. I hope it holds. But I guess there will be another real button put there if it comes off. I guess there’ll be a button there soon, then!

Also, maybe as a result of the need for a wine diet, some shirts have ripped at the sleeve – underneath the armpit. They cannot be repaired. But a couple of them are good shirts and I don’t want to chuck them. I decide that I could just cut the sleeves off. They would be summer shirts. I try. the result doesn’t look so bad. Maybe they will be fine? I will show F later, maybe?

It has taken me all bloody day to do the sewing. The jumpers have not been done. They will have to wait. I’m quite pleased with myself at having done all this. F and I have chatted over Facebook when I was doing the shirt buttons. I told him I hate doing it, having forgotten how he told me that for S’s first show, various family and friends were up all night doing the sewing. He says he will do it later. For one moment I think of saying ‘yes’ but then decide not to. After all, I should be able to do all this myself. Maybe next time?

We went out for a meal. F was ill. The next day he stayed in bed until about eleven o’clock. Asleep. Then he got up and went home and went to bed and slept.

Yesterday, as he was sleeping, I took the dogs out for a long walk to the park. Have I mentioned that Rufus seems to have really perked up in the last week or so? Well, he’s still quite perky. I’m very happy about it even if I was writing him off only before Christmas.

Then, last night, I went to the supermarket. I love that, now, the Esselunga in Viale Piave is not only open on Sunday but also open after 6! Actually, I think it stays open until about 9 p.m. Italy is moving into the 20th Century. Just a little behind others. In fact, apart from about 2 days in the year, it is open every day and at reasonable times.

I had a hankering for parsley sauce. And roast potatoes. And leeks. I got everything, including some cod (because F likes that). Of course, the cod was salted cod and I didn’t soak it for long enough. The rest was perfect. I must try it again – with a more soaked cod.

And F feels a bit better now and has gone to work.

But he didn’t take the dogs for a walk on Thursday and Friday of last week (because he had very long days and was going to do Pilates), nor Sunday because he was ill, nor today (nor tomorrow, nor Wednesday nor Thursday, I suspect) because he was going to Pilates again. So it only lasted last week. And only for three days. Oh well. I’m sure it’s the thought that counts.

&

And some lost comments:

  1. Gail says:

18 April, 2011 at 5:16 pm

………phew. I hung in ’til the end. phew – and that’s because I love you you old straight-gay man you!!

Love Gail
peace…..

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    • Andy says:

18 April, 2011 at 6:37 pm

Well done, Gail! Loads of love back

Me neither

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F A B U L O U S!

Well, for me, anyway.

It seems not for most. An said, last night, that she loved being able to wear sandals now. Compared to the last six years in London. Exactly!

Then she complained it was too hot.

Bah!

As I often say, it can never be too hot. Or, at least, not that I’ve ever yet experienced. She worries about the summer.

“If it’s this hot now, what will July be like?”, she queries.

In my head, I’m thinking, ‘bring it on’. But it won’t be like this. Already, from a forecast high of 28° for today (it will be hotter, I am sure), it will barely reach 21° tomorrow. It says.

I am sitting here, in T-shirt and sandals, with all the windows open and, surprisingly for Milan, a bit of a breeze. It is really, really lovely.

After my cup of tea I will go shopping (for groceries) and then, maybe, I can convince F to come to the park with me and the bambini. I hope so.

I know that those of you from the UK are also enjoying nice weather and I’m almost certain that most of you are not complaining about it.

Me neither.

Stuff I have done and not done.

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Well, let’s see what I’ve done.

Firstly all the windows have curtains now. Well, except for the kitchen, they had curtains before. What they now have, in addition, are nets. It means I can walk around naked without anyone seeing :-)

Not that I do that – it’s just that now I can ……… if I want to :-)

The bedroom has dark blue nets and the lounge, cream-coloured nets – floor to ceiling stuff (well, not ceiling, but top of windows). It makes the flat seem more private. I like it.

The kitchen used to have a cross between nets and blinds. These have been washed and are now back up. I leave the shutters open all the time in the kitchen and although no-one can see in unless they crane their necks, it’s nice to have that feeling of privacy.

And I have a printer/scanner/copier – and it seems to work, well, the scanner and copier work anyway. This means I can give people the stuff from my lessons without having to do stuff at work. Or, at least, when I’m not AT work, I can still give them stuff. OK the quality is not the same high quality but at least it doesn’t stop me or mean I have to do a ton of scanning when I get back. I must try out the printer, of course.

And it’s all wireless stuff so it means I can move it so it’s out of the way – but that’s a job for tomorrow, or Friday.

I say tomorrow or Friday because I need to move some stuff to make room for it. And moving some stuff means moving some other stuff. And that means trying to sort out the bedroom …. a bit. And that’s not for now.

I also tried to watch Black Swan again. But it kind of fell apart when I had to sort out the printer and so, halfway through, I gave up on it. I don’t think I actually like the film very much. I took note of TSM’s comments abut it being a psychological thriller but, you know, at that level it just fails so badly.

Tomorrow is shopping and lunch with FfC. Or the other way around. I don’t mean nice shopping – just grocery shopping. I was going to do my favourite pasta today – pasta with broccoli – I have broccoli but, horror of horrors (considering the country I live in) – I HAVE NO PASTA! To be honest, I was a bit shocked. How can I have used the last bit of pasta and not got some more? I was devastated and somewhat embarrassed. But I have a lesson tonight so not really enough time to go out and get some and come back and cook it (AND get the printer working). So on a priorities basis, pasta will be got tomorrow. Well, not cooked tomorrow ‘cos I will be out to lunch. But Friday, maybe. Not Thursday because F HATES broccoli. And cauliflower. He is a bit strange, sometimes. Thursday I might do a Shepherd’s Pie for him – as I know he likes that a lot. And, maybe, Rice Pudding, which I haven’t made for ages. Or we use one of my Groupon vouchers – else they will have run out. Yes, probably that. It’s a holiday, after all.

Oh, yes, and it’s still raining. This is exactly why I didn’t want a holiday now. Grrrr.

p.s. My student for tonight, M2, just Skyped me to ask for the meaning of quadrifoglio. I looked it up and the answer was four-leaf clover. I thought it must be wrong and he means something else but he was happy with the answer. Now, why on earth would someone want to know the English for quadrifoglio? Why? What sort of conversation is he having that he needs to know that?

Ticket hunting after rash promising

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We have visitors coming over in July.

I like it when visitors come from the UK. There is so much to see and do in Milan and I do like to ‘show it off’ for, as you know, I love this city. F was talking about taking them to Venice as, for him, Venice is better. But, since the Sunday will be their anniversary and they would prefer to ‘be alone’, we probably shan’t go.

I have, of course, promised something that now seems to be a little more difficult than a) I thought and b) it was in the past.

I have, rashly, promised tickets to go and see ‘The Last Supper’. Given that my old telephone ‘died’, I lost the telephone number I had and, stupidly, I didn’t add it to this blog.

Searching the internet was not the easiest of tasks either but, eventually, I got a few different numbers. The one that is supposed to be ‘direct’ is constantly engaged. I don’t believe it. I am persistent. I am Taurean, after all. It seems that this is a false number or they only actually put it on the hook for an hour a day or something like that. We are in Italy so either is a real possibility.

There is an online booking service (but I think you will pay more). However, on that service, the tickets for June were only made available today. I checked this morning, several times. June tickets were not ‘up’. I checked again, about one hour ago. June tickets were up and everything was sold out apart from four days towards the end of June – and then, only at certain times. Bah! Sometimes this country really does annoy me.

And so I keep trying. I am quite determined. I will also try some of the other numbers – just in case.

I also thought of taking them to the Dialogo nel Buio (Dialogue in the Dark) as this is a great experience. It might not be open at the end of July but I only want to ring and ask once I have tickets to The Last Supper.

Obviously, as this is their first time in Milan, they have to see the Duomo. Also a trip around Via Montenapoleone and Via della Spiga is essential.

Plus some really nice restaurants. And some time for ‘bar sitting’, especially as it will be hot.

But, first, The Bloody Last Bloody Buggering Supper! Grrrrrr.

Update: I got through to one number. She can’t book for July yet and doesn’t know when they will be come available but about a month from now, she thinks. However, she explained that she has more days/tickets available than those shown on the website. Double grrrrrrr.

*Sigh* – Well that was nice.

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Wasn’t yesterday a beautiful day?

Well, OK, for those of you who don’t live in Milan, it may not have been. But here it was truly fantastic. The sun shone and it was too warm to wear a hat and scarf! Also, I had the windows of the flat open for most of the day.

Saturday night, we went to see the King’s Speech – in Italian. I loved it still. For me, Geoffrey Rush made the film. However, I really did feel that, in Italian, it lost something. The stuttering which, after all, is what the film is about, could not be portrayed in quite the same way since the words in Italian are different and so it wasn’t consistent – and it seemed, sometimes, that the stuttering was ignored – and, therefore, the real struggle with it did not come across properly.

Added to that, there is so much background history that the Italians don’t know. I mean, the speech, the subject of the film, is something that most British people will know about since it has been played many, many times.

And, although I’m not a royalist, it does give you some feeling for the Royals which I find hard to understand myself.

But go see it, even in Italian if you can’t see it in English.

F said that it shouldn’t have won ‘Best Film’ at the Oscars. He said it was nothing compared to ‘The lives of others’ – his favourite film. I tried to point out that the film he loves was a number of years ago and you could always say that about your favourite film. But I think he was just saying it for effect.

And then we went to Al Basilico Fresco, as it is very close to the cinema and where I had a pizza that was fantastic – smoked bacon with parmesan and fresh tomatoes. It was really one of the very best I’ve had for a long time. Maybe I should rate the place higher. The only problem with it is that it gets really full and there is little space between the tables. But, still, very nice.

Yesterday, because the weather was really so nice, after going for breakfast with An, the three of us walked up Corso Buenos Aires for a bit, arriving home about 11 a.m. F had to iron and pack as he’s gone to Germany for the week. But later, he and I took the dogs out for an hour or so, which was lovely.

Unfortunately, it’s gone colder again this morning and cloudy. And the forecast for next weekend is rain and heavy rain. F doesn’t get back until Saturday evening. But that’s OK. I must do some things on Saturday (apart from sleep in). This is going to be a VERY busy week! Lessons every night and, for most nights, two lessons. Still it’s money towards the holiday.

Useful Tips for Italy/Milan part 1: When to use cash or credit/debit cards

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I’m going to start a new tag theme.  Useful tips for those of you visiting Italy/coming to live in Italy.

For this first one, I give you the places where it is OK to use cash and those places where you are better using a credit/debit card.

Cash:  Garages (especially if you are using an Italian credit/debit card); Restaurants (especially if you get a discount); bars.

Credit/Debit cards: ALL supermarkets; most shops;

So, having given this information there must be a reason why.  And there is.  First though, I give you my experience from last night.

I needed to do some shopping.  Spese, here.  Things for the house.  I needed milk, washing powder, coke and some other bits and pieces.  I use Carrefour, just round the corner from my flat.  It’s only a small supermarket but it has most things.  Occasionally, for some other things, I must use a different supermarket.

I come, of course, from the UK.  We may all be European but each country does have a slightly (or completely) different mindset.  And there are many differences – most so subtle that you really don’t notice for a while.

I had to find a basket.  They are always ‘short’ of them.  People, queue up to wait for someone to empty their basket at the till so that they can have one.  Last night, it was busy.  I went in search of a basket.  I started round the supermarket.  Being an inner-city supermarket the aisles are narrow. And there are people who have their basket on one side of the aisle whilst they are on the other contemplating something …… for ages ….. effectively blocking the aisle. Grrrr.

I get my stuff. I start to queue. The queues are long – there are only three tills out of 6 open but, since this is a small store, they don’t have enough people to cover all six. I am patient.

I reach the conveyor belt. I have been waiting for about 20 minutes. It has been raining all day. It is still raining. The woman before me takes her umbrella from the bottom of the basket and places it on the conveyor belt. The umbrella is soaking wet. She picks up the umbrella. The conveyor belt is now soaking wet. I wait in my patient way, seething with anger at the thoughtlessness of Italians. She realises, as I am not putting my shopping on the conveyor belt, that there must be a reason and seems to suddenly realise that her actions and stupidity are the reason. She asks the cashier for some paper to dry the belt. She dries it. In the meantime, the woman two people in front of me is paying for her shopping. There seems to be a problem with her card. She asks if it is OK to leave her bagged shopping there for a moment. the cashier says ‘yes’.

I unload my shopping.

The person in front of me says she’s going to pay cash. The cashier starts putting her stuff through. The cashier then says to the queue that she can only accept cash. I explain that I am paying by card. I ask if I can’t pay for the shopping over at the control desk. The cashier explains that it won’t be possible because it’s not her till that’s the problem – it’s the bank card system that’s down.

I lose it at this point. I say, in my best English – ‘Oh great!’ and walk out, leaving my shopping on the conveyor belt.

In my wallet I have more than enough cash to pay the bill but I no longer use cash at the supermarkets. I refuse to use cash. I will use credit cards or debit cards but NEVER cash.

So why?

Supermarket scams:

1) Sometimes you will pay for the plastic carrier bags. Sometimes you will pay a couple of cents, sometimes 10 cents, sometimes (depending on the operator), nothing at all. This is in the same supermarket, for the same bag but with different operators. It is one of the reasons I rarely go to Unes now.

2) As I have mentioned in posts before, if you offer cash, they will invariably ask you for the small change part. If you don’t give it to them you are likely to find that the change they give you does NOT include the odd 1, 2 or 5 cents that you should have. Either they don’t have those small coins or they can’t be bothered to count them out, I’m never really sure which. And yes, these are major supermarket chains I’m talking about. To be honest, this, I believe, stems from the time when the Lira was the currency and the coins were about the same value as buttons. Italians think of the lower value coins in the same way. We in the UK would never think like this and nor would a shop offer us less than the exact amount of change.

Therefore, ALWAYS use debit cards (bancomat here) or credit cards (carta) to pay at the supermarket.

Shops: Can do the same as the supermarkets above in terms of small change. Pay by plastic, if you can.

Garages: Petrol/Diesel here is about the same price as the UK. I’m not sure this applies if you are using a UK (or foreign) debit/credit card but it certainly applies if you are using an Italian one. There is an extra charge made, by the bank, if you buy fuel by plastic. Always, therefore, use cash. Also, if you use cash, if you have, say, filled your tank with €50.03 worth of fuel (as I inadvertently did this morning), they will accept €50.

Bars: Except if you are going for a night out, use cash. Coffee costs less than €1. If we go for breakfast at our local bar, two cappuccinos plus two brioches (croissants to you) cost us about 5 Euro. And they will always give you the correct change down to the last cent.

Restaurants: If you know the restaurant or are getting a discount (or expect to get one) pay by cash. If you pay by card you will not get a discount or, if you have already been given one, they won’t be so happy with you. Depends, I suppose, if you want to go back there ;-)

If I think of any other places where you should use one or the other, I will update this post.

I hope it helps.

Everything is new! Or, at least, tidied up :-)

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Hmmm. When they were measuring to replace the windows, they said that when they came to do them, it would take only a few hours. They assumed I would want to be back at work. In reality, of course, it being 3 p.m. (they started work at 8 a.m.) it is a good thing I took the whole day off.

It’s also a good thing that the new washing machine is coming between four and six. It’s also a good thing that my cleaner has not arrived yet. He is due to be here any time now but the men have, nearly, finished.

Many things have happened/are happening. It’s like a whole new place.

When we got back from our night away, because F had let a friend of his stay in his flat (and she was going to stay on Sunday too), we came to my house. We played cards and stuff. He decided that my fridge smelt of garlic and so, being the only thing we had not done during the great ‘Kitchen tidy up’, he decided we would do it now.

Everything was emptied out. Things past their sell-by date were thrown away (I’m really not good at that) and the fridge was cleaned (by F, of course). Now it is very tidy. Obviously, I must try to keep it that way.

We went to buy the new washing machine on Saturday morning, before we left. For the last few months, the machine has, during its spin cycle, sounded as if I had put a couple of boulders in with the washing. God knows what my neighbours have been thinking. So we went to Euronics (obviously). I decided to pay up to €600. So I have a new super washing machine coming this afternoon. This is kind of essential as the last wash I did on Friday night, didn’t actually get any spin at all. It washed and rinsed but no amount of coaxing and restarting by me resulted in any spin at all. And the thought of not having any washing done was terrible. And, as I’ve mentioned before, I AM NOT going back to hand washing.

The nice thing about Euronics is that, not only are they helpful and nice (although I prefer the smaller one on the corner of Viale Vittorio Veneto and Via Lazzaretto than the one on Corso Buenos Aires), they also did their best to get it delivered this afternoon. Obviously, as I write this, it hasn’t been delivered yet …… but I trust them. So there’s another few hundred Euro that Darty don’t have and Euronics do. And it will be the same when I have to replace the fridge, although I’m hoping this will be next year, at least.

So, a cleaned and organised fridge, new windows and doors and a new washing machine. What fun I have!

Learning something every day. But how strange it can be.

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OK this could be a bumper day for posts. Not because I have nothing to do at work but because I have lots of things to say. But, you know how it is, sometimes the posts come and sometimes they stay as draft until, eventually, I take some random quotes from them to make a random post and then delete all the drafts. However, if I do post them, then I’ll ‘space them out’ timewise, so you won’t have to read a load of them all at once :-)

Anyway, on to the post itself.

S tells me that she needs my help because she wants to order something on the internet. She wants some false nails ……………. for her feet!

I am ashamed to say that I guffawed at this. It was a true guffaw not any limp-wristed snigger. I was in shock. I had NO IDEA! Of course, given a little bit of thought, it is obvious. If people can be worried about their appearance so much that they are prepared to have some guy/woman carve out chunks of their face, buttocks, thighs, etc. to have that perfect look or have some strange chemical injected so that they have lips that are more like Bianca Jagger’s than Bianca Jagger had or have a face that, when breaking into a smile, it looks like they have just come from the morgue, then a bit of glue and some plastic crap stuck on the end of your toes seems nothing.

But I really had no idea.

So I googled it. They even sell it on Amazon! I don’t know why but that seems to make it more respectable. Like you were buying it from Boots or Marks and Spencers. To make it even more shocking, you can get them in different varieties – short square, French bare, French sparkle, Lilac, etc.

You learn something every day.

Euronics – yes! Darty – never, never, never again!

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I never did like Darty. Or Marcucci or whatever they were called before.

We bought our television from them when we first came here. It was the first ‘electrical’ shop we saw. They were, to be honest, quite unhelpful. As were their fitters. When part of the ‘system’ broke down I went back to the shop to try and find a fix. The staff were unhelpful, to say the least.

Then Darty took them over. I went back there, hoping that a change of ownership would improve the staff. It didn’t. I suppose it would have been like Fortnum and Masons taking over Woolworths – nothing could have been done about the uselessness of the staff. And so, nearly always, I go to Euronics and, over the last few years they have had quite a bit of business from me.

Not only are the staff at Darty unhelpful but they are also very rude …….. to me. I am mindful that it might just be me, though. Several people have mentioned going to Darty. I always try to avoid it. F suggested we look for irons at a Darty store at San Babila (as we went that way anyway). It wasn’t difficult. I wanted a fairly cheap iron and I wanted a Phillips since the last one had lasted so long.

I’m not really what you would call a ‘shopper’. I go in, see something I want and buy it. Unless I need a specific thing and am unsure, I don’t ask. I didn’t even know that this Darty store existed in San Babila! It’s not a real surprise for they have taken one of the entrances to the Metro and you enter into the shop that way.

Ah well, this is San Babila. Perhaps this will be different?

We go in. We find the area for irons. We see the Phillips brands on display. There isn’t much of a sale going on but there is one which has about 10 Euro off. I want that one. We check the boxes below and find the right model. OK, good. I find some new arial cable as well. We go to pay.

I pay but I think to myself that it is slightly more than I thought it would be. I check the receipt. The price is the original price and not the sale price. I call to the lady. She continues to walk away and ignore me. A man near her looks up. He looks like the store manager. He deigns to come over to help me. I explain that the price of the iron is wrong as it is shown at a reduced price on the shelf.

We go over together (including F, of course). As we start down the aisle, he asks a girl who works there about it. She also continues walking away from him, shouting over her shoulder that it was only the green one that was reduced. It was reduced because there is no box. I shrug and say OK, I’ll take the green one.

The girl switches direction and goes to get the green one from the display. As we walk to the cash desk, F gets involved.

I don’t understand all he has to say. There’s something about the ‘customer is right’ and that something is ‘not good education’ (our equivalent would be ‘not good manners’). This comes from both F and the ‘manager’ – to each other. There is some talk about giving us our money back. The argument is fairly short (a couple of minutes) and quite heated. The manager goes to a till and gives me money.

F is incensed. He explains all to me. Apparently he was not happy about me having the iron without the box and the instructions. He didn’t feel that it was right that is came without a box. The staff (including the manager) couldn’t have cared less what he thought. So he got me my money back.

He says he is pleased that he’s found out that they are not good. He will never shop there again. I explained that I knew this and never used them. He asked me why I hadn’t said anything and I explained that I thought it could just be me, being a foreigner and all. I was actually quite pleased that, with not a hint from me, he had ‘found out’ that they are crap.

And so we go to Euronics. This is out of our way. We ask someone about the cable as we cannot see it on the racks. The guy says that they have run out of the cable we want but there is a shop down the road that will, probably, have some. We find the iron section. I pay a few Euro more than the full price at Darty for the same iron. But I am happy with that as I feel Euronics, where the staff are always so helpful and the service is very good, deserve to have the money that Darty have lost.

I am now doubly sure that I won’t use Darty again, in future. F certainly won’t. All for the casual, unhelpful rude and indifferent attitude of the staff. So, don’t go to Darty, people. Go to Euronics instead :-)

F’s Birthday and stuff

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Well, further to my post below, Rufus seems much better. Ain’t it always the way? But I know better than to assume that he will remain this way for long.

Last night we went to Giacomo – it was F’s birthday. I had raw scampi to start (and some of F’s raw tuna) and branzino (sea bass) with artichokes as a main. F had the mixed raw fish to start and then a cooked tuna steak (he loves tuna and has it whenever he can). A nice bottle of wine, some mirto and then home.

This being a restaurant that is, as F would say, very fashion, there are the great and the good of Milan and many of the rich tourists or others who are here for business. In this case, there was a model who, apparently, used to work for Helmut Lang. However, I didn’t even recognise the name. Apparently, Giacomo has opened a new restaurant near Piazza Duomo, with views over the city. We are to go there for my birthday, I am advised :-).

Yesterday, I went to see FfC and go out for lunch. She is getting ready to return to work next week after months off whilst she had a baby. The baby is about 7 months old now. He is big. She suggested he looks like his father and asked me what I thought. As I’ve said before, babies, to me, just look like babies and not like either of the parents or anyone else for that matter. So that’s what I said.

Then, later, after we had been out for lunch, she was sitting on one of the sofas opposite me and the baby waved at me. Apparently they’ve been trying to get him to wave for a while so she was delighted that he had, finally, done it. She was going to phone R, the father, as soon as I had gone, to tell him.

She told me, during lunch, that she had, really, given up on the idea that she would become a mother and that was when she found herself pregnant. Maybe there’s a thing about trying too hard. We also spoke about FfI. FfI went back to her home country for Christmas and New Year. She planned to spend Christmas with her family and then New Year with her daughter who is in another part of the country. Her common line is ‘I hate Milan’, quickly followed by ‘I want to go back to my country’. I always thought – well, go then!

I email her to wish her a happy New Year. She emails me back to tell me that she cried every day (and that everyone except her one brother, she had fights with), she spent New Year’s Eve in a motel room all alone and that she was cold and miserable and couldn’t wait to get back to Milan. She also promised that she would never say that she hated Milan again. We shall see. To be honest, I feel sorry for her. What a dreadful way to spend Christmas and New Year! But FfC and I were talking (and we have much the same views on most things) and agreed that it’s really important to be ‘happy’ with what you have and where you are.

Milan may not be the most beautiful city in the world, nor with the best climate but it has charm and a character of it’s own. Without coming to Milan there are so many experiences that I simply would not have experienced, both good and bad, things that I would not have enjoyed and have made my life richer and more fulfilled as a result. Of course, the main thing is that I would not have met F and, for that, I would never want to change the past because it is the past that has led me here and to this point.

We also spoke (FfC and I) about V. She was quite disappointed when he didn’t turn up one evening because he was shopping for a new outfit for Christmas, after she had prepared food and everything – and he didn’t even text or phone but relied on FfI to tell her. It made me so grateful that I am no longer responsible, in any way, for him. I explained to her that my thinking on the reasons why he had, effectively, cut me off from his life was that (and I learned this from FfI) he had been telling the new boyfriend that ‘the breakup had left him with so much debt’. She was as incredulous as I had been. But it is his way and if I were too close, there would be questions from other people which would lead me to tell the truth and the truth would not be what he wanted others to hear. Ah well. At least, now, I can understand the reason even if it’s a poor one. I remember telling him, when there was the previous boyfriend – ‘don’t lie about stuff’. For lying always, at some point, bites you in the ass further down the line. But, with him, he always seems to get away with it. He is, as FfC says – always being ‘fabulous’. Fabulousness is all about show and does not necessarily have any substance. And it’s so true of him. I just hope that the fabulousness doesn’t wear off any time.