THE SAGA CONTINUES… (Read Vicolo Wars here).
Since declaring war in my little alley things have gone from bad to worse.
Remember the plants that I couldn’t water when motorcycles were parked underneath the windowsill? Not a problem any longer – my flowers pots disappeared one by one by one…
Rough Translation: “For the person who stole my vase of flowers. Shame!”
When the cold winter weather arrived the scooters moved out and the dog walkers moved in…
Rough Translation: “Someone lives on this vicolo. It’s not a bathroom for your dogs.”
**(Note: Sign disappeared 5 minutes after I posted it).
Oh, how I miss the days when young girls only sat on the stoop and smoked. Now drunk teenagers scream and barf on my doorstep at 2:30 a.m. leaving broken beer bottles to step on in the morning. I admit it was sort of amusing listening through the door as a group of confused offenders discussed the sign. I think the sarcasm might have gone over their inebriated little heads…
Rough Translation: “To be young is a beautiful thing. Please be young somewhere else.”
Vicolo War is hell.
by Toni DeBella