My cousin Moishe owned one of the biggest and
fastest-growing businesses in North West
London, a furniture store.
I convinced him that he needed to take a trip to
Italy to check out the merchandise himself and
because he was still single, he could check out all
the hot Italian women, and maybe get lucky.
As Moishe was checking into a hotel, he struck up
an acquaintance with a beautiful young lady. She
only spoke Italian and he only spoke English, so
neither understood a word the other spoke.
He took out a pencil and a notebook and drew a
picture of a taxi. She smiled, nodded her head
and they went for a ride in the park. Later, he
drew a picture of a table in a restaurant with a
question mark and she nodded, so they went to
dinner. After dinner he sketched two dancers and
she was delighted. They went to several
nightclubs, drank champagne, danced and had a
glorious evening. It had gotten quite late when
she motioned for the pencil and drew a picture of
a four-poster bed.
Moishe was dumbfounded, and to this day
remarks to me that he's never been able to
understand how she knew he was in the