POST-PEDESTRIANISM

“Let’s live dangerously”, thought I on my way to work this afternoon, deciding to try to get a small packet to the UK posted within the 20 minutes I was able to devote to the task. Things were looking hopeful: there were only about 4 people waiting in the post office and when I pressed the ticket button on the machine, out popped prodotti postali ticket number 127, whilst the display board indicated that the holder of ticker 125 was already being served. Ever the optimist, I settled down to wait. Ticket holder 125’s business seemed to be taking a very long time, and after a few minutes the holder of ticket 126 lost her pazienza [I am so relieved when Sicilians do this, too!] and marched up to the counter saying that she only had one small envelope to post, had already had it weighed [at a tobacconist’s] and had the right money. To my astonishment, instead of asking her to wait her turn, the clerk interrupted her transaction with 125 to take the envelope and money! [I don’t know why this should astonish me any longer, but it does.] Meanwhile, Mr 125 was taking an inordinate amount of time filling out a form to post a registered parcel – these forms come in triplicate and have smart plastic covers which have to be peeled off by the clerks – and then it was discovered that he had the wrong type of form altogether, for to send it with that one would have cost more [ this having been explained at the top of everyone’s voices for all to hear]. There followed a frantic search for the right form by the clerk and her colleague [who left her utility- bill- paying clients to join it] and this was obviously not going to be concluded quickly either. Finally, the form was found, Mr 125 filled it in [slowly] and the form and copies were proudly stamped with several flourishes. I went straight to the counter but the clerk insisted on pressing the computer button to bring up 126 on the display, even as I explained that the holder had been the woman who had rushed up to the counter a few minutes before. At last 127 came up and, mercifully, I was not asked “Dov’è l'Inghilterra?” or “Dov’è la Gran Bretagna?” [“Where is England / Britain?”] a question which – I jest not – has, to my knowledge, been asked in other branches! So, all in all, not bad this time – 19 minutes!!

Today the town planners have been having fun by changing the location of pedestrian crossings: there used to be a time when no concessions were made to cars in Italy but now, in this area at any rate, it is pedestrians who receive little consideration. Well, the authorities can move the crossings as often as they wish – the locals [ and I confess I now join them in this] continue to cross exactly where they like, holding one hand out in a “stop” gesture as they do so.

If the post office doesn’t get you, reader, migrating markings and the almost total absence of traffic lights surely will!