Wow! I can sleep later.

My fiirst visit to Rome. And we arrive late in the evening. My Italian true love and I. At an airport outside of Rome. So we have to look for a shuttle bus. To take us to the main bus terminal in the heart of Rome. If we had arrived earlier, we could have hopped on the subway, known as the Metro. And it would have been relatively easy finding our hotel. But the subway shuts down at 9 p.m. And we have to find the right bus. One called M1. And that ain't easy. We inquire. At the bus station. And we ask people on the street. We get conflicting answers. Conflicting directions. My true love, of course, speaks Italian. I don't. So she takes the lead. I follow. Like a puppy dog. I hear her cussing. Mostly in Italian. But she also takes some biblical names in vain. And they sound the same. In Italian. In English. In any language. The hunt for the right bus last and lasts. For an hour. We go from one bus stop to another. It's almost midnight. I remember my true love and I once spent a night in Fredrickshafen in Germany. On a park bench. And I begin to wonder. Does Rome have a park? With benches. I try to console my true love. With humor. I remind her that she wouldn't allow me to pack my favorite pants belt. Because it was too frayed. I reminded her that was my lucky belt. And maybe we are gonna have a bad night. Because I didn't bring the belt. My true love doesn't laugh. Anyway, we finally find the right bus. My true love leans back in her seat. Closes her eyes. But my eyes are wide open. I'm fascinated. I can sleep later. In bed. Not on a bus. I'm seeing Rome for the first time. Wow! --Jim Broede