We went to Martina Franca's old town for dinner again last night. There are four of us pilots, an Evergreen Airlines pilot, an FAA Pilot, me, and the guy who's in charge of this mission, R.
R took us to a cafe he'd had his eye on since we got here. As the four of us got settled at a table an angel with dark hair came to our table and gave us four menus. We studied them for a minute, then R said "There's no pasta on the menu, just pizza." (The sign said pizzeria.) "I want pasta tonight."
"Are you suggesting that we leave?"
"Yes, let's go to the place we ate last night."
The angel was back now. "Can you look at that face and tell her 'No, I don't want to eat here?' "
"I really want pasta."
So, amid lashings of apologies, we left. I gave R trash about it the whole night.
Later, on our way back to the hotel, we met some of the young engineers and technicians supporting us. They ate at the pizzeria and had fallen "head over heels" for the two waitresses. Yes, two!!! The angel we snubbed had a sister!
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