《美食祈禱和戀愛》Chapter 28 (58):遇到喬凡尼大綱
I drop my face in my hands for a longer and even sadder time. Finally I look up, only to see that one of the Albanian women who work at the Internet café has paused from her nightshift mopping of the floor to lean against the wall and watch me. We hold our tired gazes on each other for a moment. Then I give her a grim shake of my head and say aloud, "This blows ass." She nods sympathetically. She doesn't understand, but of course, in her way, she understands completely.
我把頭埋在手中，持續一段更長、更悲傷的時間。終於擡起頭來的時候，我看見在網吧工作的一名阿爾巴尼亞婦女，停下手邊的夜班拖地工作，靠在牆上看着我。我們疲倦的眼神望着彼此一會兒，然後我對她鄭重搖搖頭，大聲說：“倒胃口！”她同情地點點頭。即使她聽不懂，卻以她自己的方式完全明白。
My cell phone rings.
我的手機響了。
It's Giovanni. He sounds confused. He says he's been waiting for me for over an hour in the Piazza Fiume, which is where we always meet on Thursday nights for language exchange. He's bewildered, because normally he's the one who's late or who forgets to show up for our appointments, but he got there right on time tonight for once and he was pretty sure—didn't we have a date?
是喬凡尼。他聽起來很困惑。他說已在河流廣場（Piazza Fiume）等了我一個多小時，那是我們每週四晚間會面做語言交流的地方。他感到迷惘，因爲通常遲到或忘記赴約的人總是他。可是今晚他一反平常，準時到達那裏，而且他十分肯定——我們不是有約嗎？
I'd forgotten. I tell him where I am. He says he'll come pick me up in his car. I'm not in the mood for seeing anybody, but it's too hard to explain this over the telefonino, given our limited language skills. I go wait outside in the cold for him. A few minutes later, his little red car pulls up and I climb in. He asks me in slangy Italian what's up. I open my mouth to answer and collapse into tears. I mean—wailing. I mean—that terrible, ragged breed of bawling my friend Sally calls "double-pumpin' it," when you have to inhale two desperate gasps of oxygen with every sob. I never even saw this griefquake coming, got totally blindsided by it.
我忘記我們有約。我跟他說我在何處。他說他會開車過來接我。我沒心情見任何人，但透過“迷你電話”很難說明，鑑於我們有限的語言能力。我在寒冷的戶外等候他。幾分鐘過後，他的紅色小車停了下來，我爬進車裏。他用意大利俚語問我怎麼回事。我張嘴回答卻潸然淚下。我是說——嚎啕大哭。我是說，如我朋友莎莉所謂“雙重抽吸”的可怕哀號——在你每次啜泣之時，都得使勁兒吸兩口氧氣。我在全然毫無防備的情況下，從未見識過這驚天動地的悲痛乍然來臨。
Poor Giovanni! He asks in halting English if he did something wrong. Am I mad at him, maybe? Did he hurt my feelings? I can't answer, but only shake my head and keep howling. I'm so mortified with myself and so sorry for dear Giovanni, trapped here in this car with this sobbing, incoherent old woman who is totally a pezzi—in pieces.
可憐的喬凡尼！他用結結巴巴的英語問我他是否做錯了什麼事。我在生他的氣嗎？他是否傷了我的感情？我回答不了，只能搖搖頭，繼續嚎哭。我對自己感到懊惱，對親愛的喬凡尼深感抱歉，他和我這個啜泣、神智不清、完全粉身碎骨的老女人被困在這輛車裏。
I finally manage to rasp out an assurance that my distress has nothing to do with him. I choke forth an apology for being such a mess. Giovanni takes charge of the situation in a manner far beyond his years. He says, "Do not apologize for crying. Without this emotion, we are only robots." He gives me some tissues from a box in the back of the car. He says, "Let's drive."
最後我以粗嘎的嗓門一再表示，我的悲痛與他無關。我爲自己的失態哽咽着向他致歉。喬凡尼以遠超過自己年紀的態度控制住場面。他說：“別因爲哭泣而道歉。若沒有這樣的情緒，我們就只是機器人罷了。”他從後座的面紙盒裏拿了幾張面紙給我。 他說：“我們開車吧。”
