Even if you don't know the language, there's no need to be RUDE.

Rome is full of tourists. More tourists than actual Romans, I assume.

I have gone to a number of places in the world, and it's always the same. Foreigners are RUDE.

I completely understand the embarassment of not being able to speak the local language. I have only traveled to countries where the language is a Romance language: French, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese. And the most basic of English is generally understood...uh...EVERYWHERE.

I also understand not wanting to make yourself heard when you DON'T speak the native tongue. You don't want to make yourself a target for rip-off. And I hate these people who just speak English as though everyone can and should understand them. Speak softly, or slowly. And look apologetic because you're speaking your mother tongue.

But, you know what? "EXCUSE ME" or "I'M SORRY" IS NOT THAT DIFFICULT TO LEARN. And, if you step on someone's foot, and say "I'm sorry" and look like you mean it, I can guarantee you will make yourself understood.

I can't tell you how many times I've travelled and someone has walked into me, jammed their elbow into my boob, stomped on my foot and PRETENDED IT DIDN'T HAPPEN, just because they don't speak whatever language they don't speak.

I realized this today, when I was on line at the store, underneath the train station, to buy a skirt. I get in line, there's a line (big sale), about 3 people in front of me, and this Asian woman gets behind me. She looks as though she's in a hurry, and I see her trying to get on the side of me insead of staying completely behind me.

The next person goes, and the next. she's looking at her watch. She looks a bit anxious. When the person in front of me is being checked out, I SHIFT MY WEIGHT to my right foot, and she looks at her watch, takes a slight step forward to my left, reaches in her wallet and pulls out 20 euro.

At this point, I am fully aware that she thinks she's going to go ahead of me. 'Cause she's in a fucking hurry.

So now it's my turn, and she plunks down her sweatshirt, and I say to her "Scusa, sono devanti de te." Angrily. She turns to me, and in Italian, says "Non capito." so I say in English, "I am ahead of you." The cashier looks at her, explains to her in Italian that there is a line, yadda, yadda... I say, in Italian "go ahead." she starts apologizing, apologizing, in broken Italian, how she was on the phone, she didn't know.

This woman was completely full of shit.

Now, I don't know where she was from, or if she lives in Italy, or what. but her move was completely calculated. And there was no way I wasn't going to give her some shit for it.

On a completely different note, Rik has left and I am here navigating Rome on my own for a few days more. I am ready to go home. I have eaten all the gelato I wish to eat (although I am sure I will have some more,) the clothes are too damn expensive, even the crappy summer ones that are on sale. In fact, the stores don't really even carry too much non-summer stuff until they get rid of the old stuff. I spent all day trying my damndest.

I also went to a gelato place that supposedly has a wonderful variety of gelato- 100 flavors! 100 flavors indeed. But that't the problem. There's too much, the whole place is FULL of tourists. you get to one part of the counter, and the gelato you want is another 18 gelati away from you, and all the tourists do is cross this huge bar back and forth, back and forth, till they figure out what they want. Then the guy gets to you, and he's in a foul mood. I can't really blame him. At that point, you totally forget what you want. So you piss him off even further. Today's flavor: glazed chestnut and Irish coffee. And totally overrated.