Outlet shopping with a detour...

Outlet Shopping with a detour... This morning, I rose as I always do, around 5:30, took my vitamins, leisurely embracing the day. I went out for a longer than usual walk, because my knee was feeling better, the day was gorgeous and I was enjoying every second of being outside in the not quite yet hot summer sun. When I got home, I pondered how I could make this day even better. Why, a trip to Pucci would make for a perfect afternoon. I ate my breakfast, got dressed, and headed to Leccio, where the most marvelous outlets live: Burberry, Pucci, Tods, Gucci, Loro Piana. And that isn't even half of what all is there. But, I was on a mission: Pucci. I made it there in exactly one hour. Good time for the lunch hour. I pulled in to the parking lot and found a great spot at the very end of the line and started... Crash! I must have misjudged how much room I had because the next thing I knew, I was backing down from having mounted the curb. Well, no matter. These things happen all the time. I parked and got out, walking around just to look... I was certain I'd find nothing. Boy, was I wrong! The front right tire was completely flat. You could hear and audible shhhhhhh as the last whisp of air escaped the michelin rubber.  Great. Now what? I debated. Do I shop first then deal with this? Maybe I just change the tire to the spare myself and then deal with it later. Perhaps there is a nice man who will help me... Let me just interject here: chivalry is dead, at least at the Mall in Leccio. I asked a passer by and he ignored me. I walked up to customer service and asked a security guard... His excuse was his bad back. Right... So, my next series of thoughts was that I just needed to call the rental agency and let them handled it. So, I did. After two aborted calls which ended up as disconnects, I finally got through to a nice woman who said a tow truck would be there in 40 minutes. I could either get a new car or go with the tow while they fix the tire. At first, I got a little excited at the prospect of ditching what has got to be the unluckiest rental of all time! Then she clucked her tongue in the way only an Italian woman about to deliver bad news can: "Madame, you require an automatic? I'm sorry, but there is no automatic with which to substitute. You will have to wait with the car in Firenze." At least I had 40 minutes before the tow truck would be there. That gave me PLENTY of time to hit Pucci. I found a great top, two belts and the dress of my dreams ! I pulled out my Merrill Lynch to pay and the card was rejected. "you have got to be kidding me..." On top of everything else, I had to call Merrill in New Jersey, which, by the way, is totally frustrating because amongst all the menus there is not one which gives you the option to talk to someone!  After a 20 minute call during which it was discovered that no one alerted the account of my travel (although everyone knows I do this every year...) all was resolved. Now, all I had to do was wait for the tow. And on cue, precisely 40 minutes from the end of my call to Europcar, the tow truck arrived. A very quite man called Francesco got the car on the back of the flat bed and off we went to Florence to get a new tire. He spoke not a single word the whole way. I tried to make small talk, as I'm wont to do... He didn't bite. So, it was a very, very quiet drive to a section of Firenze Sud I had never ever seen before. Apparently, neither had the tow truck driver since he had no idea where he was going. We eventually found the tire place and after a series of calls, it was decided that the only thing to do was to trundle me off into a cab to the airport to deal with Europcar face to face. So, I collected my gear from the car and waited for my cab.   The next thing I knew, I was on my way. At the airport, I was assigned ANOTHER Mercedes A Class, but in true Italian fashion, it was not ready. They were cleaning it up. Where? I was unsure. Who? That, too, was a mystery. All I did know was that 5 guys were standing around, smoking cigarettes and talking on cell phones while one guy was rubbing down the same car for about 25 minutes. Now, I'm no professional, but Catherine and I can wash the Porsche inside and out in about 15 minutes. The A Class isn't that much bigger. So, I'm not sure what the hold up was. But, one full hour later, the same exact car as I had just left at the tire repair shop came lurching around the corner. The license plate number is even almost identical... I hopped in and raced, and I mean raced home. I think, tomorrow, I will just go to the pool, where I can do the least amount of damage. Oh: the other thing... sitting in the hot sun for an hour gave me a chance to scrutinize my car rental contract. It seems that I am prohibited from taking the car to Eastern Europe, so Croatia is out. I will spend the next 2 hours cancelling everything I booked yesterday. When it rains, it pours!