In pursuit of a mop.

Many Italians speak more with their hands than with their mouths.  Or so it seems to me. I notice the hands. Because too many Italian words elude me. But the demonstrative hand gestures. They can't be ignored.  If one gets too close to an Italian, there's a danger of being hit by a flaying arm. Accidentally, of course. Italians are well-meaning. But dangerous.  One must remain alert. And at a safe distance.  When I want to communicate with an Italian, I frequently use sign language.  It's essential. Because of my limited Italian vocabulary.  It works sometimes. Not always. Believe me. When in an Italian hospital, I took a shower. In a stall without a shower curtain.  Water splattered over the floor. I wiped it up. With a towel. When a mop would have been far better. The next day, I spotted the cleaning lady, and didn't quite know how to ask for a mop. For my next shower. So I motioned for her to enter the shower room, and acted out, how water bounced off me and on to the floor. Then I  pretended having a mop in hand, swishing it about. She got the gist of my message. Took me down the hallway to a nurse. Where she explained the problem. The nurse gave me a bed sheet. To wipe up the floor next time. Wasn't as good as a mop. But hey, it sufficed. --Jim Broede