. . . about each other when you travel.
The Engineer and I are getting married. And we have travelled together. Therefore one would think we know each other well. But nothing like a trip to Europe to really bring out each other's dark sides.
I wouldn’t say the Engineer is dishonest. He’s one of the most straight-up people I know. But he does have a bit of a sneaky side.
And I would never say that I am subtle. Far from it.
So sometimes we go together about as well as vinegar and oil.
For example, the Engineer has a method of placing his bag on the belt at check-in to hide the fact it is most likely overweight. It’s not hard; you just don’t put it all the way on. So when he puts his bag on, and it weighs 16.8 kg, not the allotted 15 kg, he hopes the check-in lady won’t notice.
Well, she’s bound to notice when I yell ‘Oh No! Your bag is 16.8 kilograaaaaaaams!!’.
He also says I shouldn’t say certain things out loud. Like when a Vatican tour guide is selling me on a tour, but I look at the Engineer who is making a face and say ‘are you making a face? Is this bad? Do you think he is a con artist?’ right in front of the non-con-artist-Australian work-holiday-Visa-person.
I also have a bad habit of imitating accents. In Brooklyn, I will loudly say ‘I ax her to go’ at which point the Engineer almost gets beat up. In this case, I started the accent before we got to Italy. And Italian accents don’t even sound the way us Americans make them sound. Or the way I make them sound. For all my acting friends, or friend, Arlecchino has reared his ugly head again. I can’t help but say things like ‘Bella Roma’ or ‘giva mia mora pasta’.
To be fair, the Engineer has taken to saying ‘here we go’ the way Mario does before you start the game.
We've also learned that I will walk around for hours searching for the perfect restaurant before settling on one that I think will satisfy my foodie needs. The Engineer could care less.
I like to get lost and am certain that at some point I will figure out my way. The Engineer has a map out at all times.
I take pictures of everything. The Engineer does not. He just looks at the sky waiting for me.
If I get sick, I got to the pharmacy right away and get a pill, then buck up because I am on vacation. The Engineer does not go to the pharmacy but prefers to make grunting noises every three paces.
We have learned that I have no patience for said illness and will dump the Engineer off at nearby seats while I go to the Trevi Fountain by myself.
Mostly we're learning that marriage is made of up compromise. So I will go to almost any restaurant we find. And the Engineer will take a pill (true love is a fiance who mimes throwing up and diarrhea for the pharmacist).
We've also learned the valuable lesson in 'alone time'. Hmmmm. We're only fours days in . . . . .