A lesson in flirting

By Betsy Baertlein
Cardinal Staff

I have almost hit the two-month mark of my time in Italy, and each day I seem to discover new aspects of the Italian culture. One aspect that has proven to be especially intriguing is the culture of romance, which I never realized the full extent of before coming here.

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Being a young, blonde, athletic American female in Italy has put me at the receiving end of much flirting from Italian men of all ages and appearances. The most overt and persistent flirter I’ve encountered was a 39-year-old man on the ski slopes named Dario.

During our first conversation, Dario told me that I have beautiful eyes. This may seem like a cliché compliment, but he seemed very sincere. Shortly after, he told me that I make his heart beat like thunder and lightning, and he asked me if I would like him to get me a room in his town by the sea. I must admit that at this point I began to get a bit creeped out, but this is a prime example of the flirting that is considered normal in Italy. If a man perceives even the slightest chance that a woman may be interested in him, he proceeds at full throttle.

Another story of an Italian flirter comes from an anonymous female faculty member who is currently on sabbatical and traveling and studying in Italy. Said faculty member was in a restaurant with her travel companion, being served by their friendly waiter, when the owner of the restaurant came out, put his hand on her shoulder and said with a heavy Italian accent, “This iz my wiiifffeee.” The owner went on to insist that the faculty member have her picture taken with him, and, as she paid her bill, he reached across the bar and kissed her! What a way to do business!

Lastly, I would not do Italian flirting justice if I failed to mention the ways Italian men of all ages address young women on the street. A couple of common phrases are “Ciao bella!” which means “hello beautiful,” and “Mamma mia!”

However, some men opt for more original methods, such as one who neighed at my girlfriends and me as we walked past. Sometimes I cannot help but laugh at the ridiculousness of these methods, but they do make some great stories, and I think I will miss the romance culture when I return to the States.