Junkyard Post One Week Two

The economic store, TerraNova, sits right on Corso Garibaldi, or the strip, as one might think in America. We walked in to Miley Cyrus's "Wrecking Ball" humming between bubble jackets in red, blue and black, and mesh t's that read: "Because you can, so you will." Someone grabbed a pair of shoes from the bottom of a table with some gray baby t's with tigers and rainbow backgrounds. The shoes, black with sewed rainbow stripes, were a size 39. Not knowing what that meant for American sizes, I stepped towards the counter, asked the woman scanning packaged dress shirts if she spoke English and when she didn't, somehow managed to pull a "trentotto" out of my just-had-Italian-class exhaustion. She stared at me, and spouted a slew of Italian and "basta," which I translated to: the only ones we have are out already. Turning around, a black bag with "hear the noize" welcomed me to the side of the store with terrible translations as a woman with "party hard" printed across her chest walked in from smoking a cigarette.