He Should Be French

It's Friday at 6pm Venice Time (which is the same as Rome and Florence, but hey, we're here).

The Iron Tourist and his family are sitting in St. Mark's Square, WAY OVERPAYING for bierra, prosecco, and sodas.

We sat down, and were ignored for a while. Finally, after the people sat down next to us and immeidately got menus, our waiter deigned to bring us menus. Carol was fuming that we should move to another cafe and overpay there, but I figured we were already here.

The gold on St. Mark's Basilica is shimmering in the sunlight, the clock tower just struck six, and we're just hanging out. How many times in life will I get to blog in St. Mark's Square? (It's a rhetorical question, so don't post comment answers, wiseguys).

I noted to Carol that he is so rude he should be French. Drinks are here.

(The photo is of me live blogging in St. Mark's Square.)