My favourite beer yarn happened while my wife and I were touring Europe. We’d been travelling all over the continent enjoying foreign beers and, of course, collecting the usually quite decorative glass (as you do).
Whilst in Rome we went to a quaint little cafe and bar to enjoy a Peroni Nastro Azzurro or three. The glass looked quite collectable and it had my name written all over it. So I told my wife to whack this glass into her handbag, then we quickly left. Quite quickly, I might add.
Anyway, we’d gone about fifty metres down the road when the waiter came running after us, shouting something in Italian.
We looked at each other and thought, ‘Should we run or face the consequences? I mean, what could they do? It’s only a glass and we’re dumb tourists who don’t understand.’ So we stood our ground.
The waiter came scurrying towards us talking very quickly in Italian. We were very worried.
Then from behind his back he pulled out our camera which we’d left behind in the rush.
We thanked him in the only Italian we knew — a tip.
We both heaved a big sigh of relief — but my wife gave me a serve over leaving the $400 camera for a $2 glass.