Helping an Italian man
I was walking home yesterday and a gentleman sitting in his SUV waved me over.
“Hello, I am looking for the G-F-K airport,” he said in a heavy Italian accent pointing to a fold up map.
“You mean the JFK airport?”
“Ah, yes, the JFK airport. You are from NYC, yes?” he said.
“Yea. But you’re going to want to head south.”
“Ah, very good,” he said and shook my hand.
“I’m not exactly sure how to get there, I moved here a month ago.”
“What do you do here? You are a businessman?” he asked.
“No, I’m a comedian.”
“Ah, a what do you mean?”
“You know, a comedian, I tell jokes. Coh-me-dee-ann”
He smiled, “Ah, a cameraman!”
“Yes, I’m a cameraman.”
“Very good, you have a guapo face. Very handsome,” he said.
“Um, thank you.”
“Yes, yes. I just come from Italy and I work for Armani. I have several suit coats in my trunk that I need to get off my hands for very little money. You would like to buy one?” he asked.
“I have to go. Bye.”