I've become a linguistic show-off.

Bought  a new wristband for my cheap watch the other night. From a jeweler on Via Gramsci, the main drag where I’m living. In Carbonia on the Mediterranean island of Sardinia. The wristband broke. Could have easily lost my watch. But it happened indoors. At home. And I found the watch. Would have been all right if I had lost the watch.  I paid less for the watch than for the new 10-euro band. And that was a discount from the 13-euro listed price. That’s a benefit of having an Italian true love who knows the jeweler. Maybe it helped that the jeweler fondly remembers  my true love’s mother. She was his teacher. In elementary school. A long time ago. Anyway, the new band is nifty black leather.  It’s Italian made, I assume.  Jazzes up my watch. Makes it look classy. Like an expensive watch.  The kind worn by Italian gentlemen.  I’m trying to impersonate one. I now use the word gioiellieria. Italian for jeweler. And orologio. Italian for watch. And cinturino. Italian for wristband.  Yes, I’ve become something of a linguistic show-off. –Jim Broede