bicicletta:beecheecletta, bici:bc, velo:vaylow

This morning when I went out to get my bike it was locked in by some construction workers.  Really.  They built a little blockade around it and they were breaking up the concrete underneath it.  I walked right up like I owned the bike, which I kind of do, and told them in my best French that it was my bike and I needed it.  They said I couldn't have it. At least that's what I thought they said.  So I said some more stuff that I'm sure made about as much sense to them as the stuff they said to me.   I really didn't want to take the metro.  Yes.  The metro signs are cool.  And some of the stations are even cool.  I especially love the giant billboards down below.  But, I hate the metro and I really wanted to ride my bike.

I wasn't sure if they were joking when they said I couldn't have it.  I haven't mastered the intricacies of the language well enough to actually understand a little teasing. So, I held my ground (which I still had!  They were the ones standing in a big hole)  and said something that made one of them ask me if I was Spanish.  I said no, but I said that I spoke Spanish.  We continued a bit in French and then one of them said he would help me get my bike out for one euro.  At this point, I got the joke.  I handed over my keys and he unlocked the u-lock and gave the keys back.  I said that there was another lock and he said it would be another euro.  I'd actually have been willing to pay this to stay off the metro.

He got the bike unlocked and had to lift it over the blockade and hand it to me.  So, my bike was set free and I was set free and thanked them with a "grazie mille."  That's when one of them said, (in Italian), "Why didn't you just say you were Italian in the first place?  This would have all been much easier."  Arrivaderci!