How To Firm My Dog's Stool

drivers of trucks

Yesterday I was at the restaurant "Bella Paris", a half dive but it has its charms, eating chicken before we see a couple of Italian friends at the pub. The place is held by a Frenchman who recognized me as an Italian copy of "The Express" which I read during dinner. While I eat and read, a sbronzone sixty (or perhaps fifteen years younger, but very badly worn), I tapped on her arm and said: "You're not Norwegian."
"Hmm, Italian."
"I went to Italy many times in the truck. Sicilia, Palermo. Aaaah."
"Oh, I understand."
"Where are you from?"
"Rome."
"Ah, Roma. Sicilia, Palermo."
moment of silence, smiling at me, I replied with a smile in return. A little 'uncertain.
'E' good food? "
Sisi."
"Good. Take care! "
And then goes to the bathroom.