Una Festa and Amore

5/2/12
...Georgeo went out for a soda while I napped and, when I woke up to the sound of cheering outside, I joined him. He was at the cafe just to the right of the mouth of the alleyway, and across the street at the Illy cafe there was a big crowd of boys gathered at a table, cheering, drinking, and being merry. They sang songs to people walking by and generally just made spectacles of themselves. Georgeo and I [sat at] our table, nursing our drinks, me my cappuccino, George his beer, and watched and laughed with the rest of the town. The waiter of the cafe was a benevolent middle aged man who practiced his scant English with us. "Young boys," he said, motioning to the ruckus across the way. "They drink and they sing." We laughed together. "It's okay," Georgeo said. "They're young. Let them have their fun." And [across the way] they raised another toast to each other with a cry of "Ooohhh-lay!" and called to their friends to join them. Their waiter, a man with brown hair and a red beard, brought more drinks, to more cheering, and joined their songs, as the crowds from the processions gathered and ambled by as they do in the evenings. We left the cafe and wandered the streets with the fashionable masses...

... We started watching [the concert] from the front, standing next to the sound booth, but my allergies (which were terrible last spring in Washington) were acting up and I was stifling sneezes left and right. We decided to go back to the house and watch the show from the living room balcony so I could be near the tissues. It was a great show, Italian rock and roll. The bass guitarist was into it from the very first note, jamming out on the stage. And it went on for so long.
  Across the street, the cafe was jammed full of people and the two waiters were running around like crazy. The one with the red beard I decided was adorable and George spent the rest of the evening teasing me about it and devising ways to get me to go talk to him. I have a feeling we'll end up over there for drinks one night while he's working and George will embarrass me by getting his attention, pointing back and forth between the waiter and me and saying the word "amore" like he schemed to on the balcony. I'll let it happen and blush. Nothing will come of it, I know. I made up my mind that he doesn't speak English and is dating the waitress I saw there. They weren't together or anything. But she's pretty, so he's with her probably. Ha!...

5/4/12
... the owner's name is Angelo. His wife Pina was there and our friend Giuseppe from the other night. It turns out that the man with the red beard is the son of Angelo and Pina and he is married. It's okay though, they told me he shaved his beard off that day, and it was really just the beard I loved. : P...