Card 32

How Slava Found Us at the Airport

The story is juicy. We were due in at 3 pm on the Air France flight which we missed due to the non-flight from Milan and the actual but later one from Turin. It seems that they have two flights a day from Paris to Boston, and managed to get us on the second, which arrived at about 6 pm. While we had given him our flight itinerary (as we had anyone else who asked), we hardly expected him to meet us there. It seems that he had gotten this heroic idea into his head to sweep us away as we arrived. But of course, we didn't arrive. And not expecting him, we had no reason to advise him of the change in schedule. In fact, it would have been rather presumptuous of us, no?

There he was at the airport, at 3 ... and we didn't arrive. He calls Air France, but they wouldn't give out this so-called confidential information about our arrival. So he tries again, pretending to be ME, and inquiring about our arrival and itinerary schedule ... and the girl told all ... before she realized that at that time I would be on the plane in mid-pond, making this a rather questionable request. Then of course it was too late, the cat was out of the bag.

Xenia was due off the island on a 4~5 pm boat, so he went over, picked her up, came back to the airport, and they hung out.

Meanwhile Marian had been contemplating placing a call to her folks to request a pick-up, since they live so close to the airport and had done this before. But, for whatever reason, she didn't. Just as well!

We arrived as (re-)scheduled, and as we emerged from the customs door around midnight Venice time, we saw no-one familiar (not that we were looking). I made a joke about "no Happy to be seen". We trundled ourselves with the month's worth of junk (including Marian's easel, kitchen apparatus, etc.) out the door toward the taxis.

As we passed thru the outer door to the street, these two camouflage colored pickpockets grabbed from behind at my little passport satchel, which was hanging around my neck, trying really hard to tear it away. It held, however, and as my balance tipped back, I spun and grabbed the nearest one rather tightly I am told. She wasn't expecting this reaction and we kind of danced around for a second or two before I recognized the culprit as Xenia. Slava was just standing there giggling, having backed off a couple of feet and was looking very proud of himself.

The creeps!

They drove us home in style (to which we were not accustomed!) and managed to keep us up, what with take-out BBQ from Blue Ribbon, til 11 pm, when all of us they faded out into a well-deserved unconsciousness.

(Wanna know a good Freudian slip? I typed "Blur Ribbon" )

You mean you two are back? I was afraid you'd decided to settle in over there. Colored camouflage? You mean they wore blackface? Anyway, welcome home! -- Love, Eleanor

Quite a tale! Wasn't that clever of Slava! Next time, I'll try pretending to be the person I am inquiring about at the airlines! That actually is funny. And it was very nice of him to pick you up when he knew you would be exhausted from the trip. A good friend, indeed! -- Joan