The lock on my door had been giving me trouble for a couple of weeks, but up until two days ago, it was pretty impossible to open and close from the outside. I called my landlady who had me call the locksmith -- who happens to be married to my landlady's flower shop employee. Carlo came by at nine this morning with a weathered leather bag filled with tools and started to work right away. I left him to his deed after offering a drink and headed upstairs to work. Ten minutes later, I'm called down.
All fixed. "Monteleone non ci sono ladri." He explained. Monteleone doesn't have many thieves. He continued in Italian. "Therefore, turn the lock just two or three times." (It goes up to five.)
Great, thanks, how much do I owe I ask. He shook his head.
"Nothing, maybe next time I see you at the bar, a caffe."
Are people kind or what?
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