And speaking of lunchtime invasions, I had the pleasure of receiving a (not very exciting but still important) package today, mid-lunchtime (I think they do deliveries on purpose during these hours, figuring folks will be home). However, it turns out that despite proclaiming my victory over the doorbell, Trofie Wife, in fact, did not know how to open the front door to the apartment (and thus I think the package guy thinks I’m a little nuts). Apparently, I was pressing the wrong button. Not the right one, with the key symbol clearly marked on it…. In my defense, the key button appears to be a phone dial tone button. And since the intercom/door opener is shaped like a phone, such a function appeared to make perfect sense, with the little button on the side being the one you use to let in folks (not sure what it does, the landlord thinks nothing, but Martello thinks it might be how you speak to the visitor)… Luckily, our landlord opened the door for him. And now I finally know how to. So, we promise that packages won’t be abandoned, or any visitors left in the cold.
Baci e gelato,
Martello e Trofie Wife