Dating an italian american

I was counting the minutes until I could make a respectable exit, cab it home, change into sweatpants, and curl up with my book. Must be hamsters…they store chewed food in their cheeks, right? We were in a total faceoff — high noon, John Wayne style.Little did I know that my boredom was about to be punched in the face by a plot twist. While I imagined an animated Disney scene where cute, anthropomorphized woodland animals sang to a young Antonio about the importance of rationing, we ate in silence. I thought I saw some tumbleweed blow by, but it was just the cute waiter. Well I double-dog-dare you to eat the rest of this meat without spitting out a single bite.” “Done!Well, don’t book your flight yet, ladies, because there are some things you should keep in mind before falling for the first How do I know?Two years ago, I spent the summer in Italy, and, like most single ladies on a three-month trip abroad, I thought I might meet a handsome Valentino or two in my travels.

She was making gravy and the comforting smell of onions and olive oil filled the house. Un-caffeinated and out of sorts, I smeared deodorant on my shirt (but didn’t find out until I was already on the bus).

After a few awkward moments, Antonio suggested we order drinks. Case closed.” We went on to make small talk and eventually our drinks came.

I managed to shake myself out of my stupor and look at the cocktail menu in time for him to ask, “What are you going to get, shorty? Antonio sent his back while I suppressed a chuckle.

Check out this story, modified and published on Elite Daily.

Have any fun dating stories from your time in Italy?