Sitting in a backyard surrounded by 40 or so Italian women.
It happens to me about once a month when the group of Italian ladies who live in LA meet for an evening of merriment, food – a lot of it – and alcohol. Not one to join groups easily, actually I do have an aversion to any gathering of more than six people, what started as a lark to practice my mother’s tongue on a regular basis, has now become an event I sort of look forward to.
They’re just out for a drink with good friends, often in a mixed boy-girl group that has been tight for ages, known in Italian as a collettiva, and so they are impossible to approach.
Not that they wouldn’t chat to a colleague or someone they’d been introduced to at a party the previous week, should they run into them, but meeting strangers for potential hook-ups, dates, and relationships is not on the agenda.
She might even ditch her friend for half the night, depending how interested in you she is.
It doesn’t take long to get — after all, it’s her number, not a wedding ring. Right away, she wants to have an idea of how hard you are going to work to get her attention. On the one hand, fashion, elegance, and taste are embedded in the Italian culture, so Italian guys don’t even notice they have this going for them.
An American girl isn’t so much into ‘the chase’ — she generally doesn’t run away for too long, or too far away.
An American girl can take time away from her friend to talk to you on a night out.
The possibilities are then endless, though admittedly limited both to the types of guys at bars and to the scope of their intentions.
Here, on the other hand, to meet each other, an Italian girl and an Italian guy need to be properly introduced by a mutual friend or acquaintance, they need to be presentati, presented to one another.