Having developed complete insight into the lives of modern Florentines, and consequent sensitivity, I now offer my list of jobs I wouldn't want.
1. Tourist Restaurant Greeter. Person who stands -- menus (in 6 languages) at the ready -- near entrance employing a broad range of tactics (from laser-like direct eye contact to arm waving and whistles) to lure potential diners within. The worst part of this engagement appears to be answering questions about the availability of spaghetti and pizza from Asian tourists.
2. News Stand Proprietor. Generally a sullen person (understandably) who sits, wrapped in blankets and fingerless gloves all day in a three sided aluminum box agreeing how miserable the weather/economy/kids/coffee/government is with patrons who never have the right change.
3. Gypsy. A relatively unfamiliar type to this Northern New England suburbanite, these sales workers and coin collectors make their (probably meagre) living walking around gesturing with a coffee cup containing several jingling coins or attempting to sell usually hideous scarfs in the piazzas and tourist streets of the city. Often older women or men, these workers are proficient at direct marketing. (I'm not trying to be insensitive here, but there appears to be a distinct difference between beggars, street people and gypsies.) And while I do not completely understand the politics of the European Union viz the Romani population, I am simply amazed at the dogged tenacity possessed by these individuals. I hear in major train stations, particularly in Rome and Naples that the sheer number of gypsies attempting to make a living through persistence is simply astounding. ) I watched one day as a particularly aggressive scarf vendor dogged one group of architectural tourists all over the Piazza for more than an hour hounding one poor woman to the point she hoisted her umbrella like an épeé when he wouldn't take no for an answer for the tenth time.
4. Bike Rental Agent (winter.) From my window here at Santa Croce, I have watched the same poor woman staff her bike rental stand from roughly ten in the morning till seven at night (with the customary 3 hours off for lunch.) On average, on a nice day, she appears to rent her cycles to no more than 4 customers. In between transactions, she sits, bundled up on a stone bench smoking cigarettes. I certainly hope she is a union employee with good benefits.
5. Stocking Clerk at Grotto Grocery (aka "Meta.") Given that new merchandise appears to be delivered here no more than once a quarter (what with the one package of coffee, two cartons of out-of-date eggs, slimy looking mushrooms and artichokes usable as cannon balls,) it appears the two ever-present clerks at G.G. have little to do but sit outside on milk crates smoking. On my many visits, (It's close... what can I say... it's hard to screw up bottled water, laundry soap and toilet paper...) despite little to do and few patrons, I have never seen a smile, a happy face or a customer service-oriented attitude. I presume worker surliness is in direct proportion to a sense of engaged professional self-worth, but I would be guessing.
6. Religious worker. Here in a city with more churches, chapels, squares dedicated to saints and works of art depicting great moments in western religious history per square meter than almost anywhere else in the world, I must confess I have never seen a priest or a nun. (or a rabbi either, come to think of it, but they are less often in uniform, if you know what I mean.) Not one. I can only suspect the relative dirth of crucifix-wearing, rosary-toting black uniformed soldiers of the faith are so busy, given their relative scarcity, that they stay off the streets and out of the piazzas, and thus out of my view since I have not been to a religious service in Italy, maybe ever. According to a friend of mine who lives in Florence most of the year, indigenous Italians take their religion about as seriously as I do, which is to say, not very seriously at all. And with few faithful, it would seem a profession as spiritual leader must be lonely.
Summary? Like everywhere, there are jobs to love and jobs to do. Here in Florence at the nadir of tourist season, jobs dependent on traffic can be kinda dull.
If I had to choose one of the five listed here (let's face it, number 6 just isn't an option for a swell fella like myself), I'd choose tourist restaurant greeter. A devilishly, delightful stare to the wicked passerby's with the possibility of "perhaps", a warm, trustful smile for those seeking nourishment far from home, and eager ears for the queries of the world's inquisitive population would ensure that I only be holding menus for a season before captivating the attention of some dynamo seeking swashbuckling adventures!
Posted by: RD | 01/27/2012 at 11:33 AM