
I remember that I promised implicitly Qi-Qi that I would post a story every day till 10...Here comes the third: Matthew.
28th June, I bought a take-away pizza and took the bus to Trento train station at 13:13. It was not easy to say goodbye to Canazei; it was even harder to not to be laughed at by the whole bus when I asked the Italian bus attender whether eating Pizza was allowed in buses. (my dear readers, if you are confused at what the connection is between the 2 sentences, you are on the right track of the Ting's logic. So you are fully prepared now?) The pizza was delicious, my stomacache was serious. The peak was reached when I reached train station Trento. I took the painkiller with the cup of hot tea without mine putting the teabag in it.(That is the only way I could get a cup of hot water travelling in Europe.) My backpack weighted 18 killos, the pain added double more, now the painkiller killed eventually several killos so that I could catch the ES to Rome.
My dear readers, have you had the background color in grey yet? Good, the hero was already on board. Matthew drew my attentions with his echoing laughters at my translation of "little dog-friend" to the chinese characters on a passenger's green handbag. He then immediately showed us his tatoo "安“(peace he translated, i said, "tranquility"). After eyeing at his wrist where the tatoo was on, I couldnt help myself checking out all his body "decorations" including the silver necklaces and earrings. "He must be another 'luxurious outside-poor inside' pretty man".
Eventually, my curiosity didnt manage to escape from his decorating the table with his blue towel. He basically covered the whole table with it. Then he started to exhibit his "treasures" on it-the book "tipping point", a leather diary notebook, ...I had to sit on the other side to be able to enjoy his "show"...(thanks to verona, the train changed the direction, so my reseat seemed so seemlessly smoothy.) I disguised myself by reading the biography of Veron Smith in between. My disguise, however, didnt escape from his eyes. After his finishing the diary writing, he packed everything speedily and scared me big time by sitting opposite to me, "Hi, so where r u up to?" I didnt get that question until he repeated it 3 times...Then he asked 10 questions without answering any question i squizzed in...we talked about coincidence, fate, connectors, tipping point, economics, nobel prize winners, Samuels Bowles, we discussed for about 3 hours--most shockingly, he commented, "the ones who believe in fate are the ones who have faith on coincidences." The conversations were as smoothy as the eurostar train that in the end, he showed me his travelling photos, including his personal ones, like his brother's wedding pic. After the photos sharing, he got off in Firenze, as planned..."I will write you an emaill..." he dropped that line before he got off, like every American...upon that, I am 200% sure that he wouldnt for 99%.
Nevertheless, huu, my stereotype was successfully smashed by the cunning Matthew.
(herewith exhibited is a pic Matthew took on his first day at the Palace Ruins in Rome)

[picture taken by Matthew: Rainbow On the Tree]