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Career detours: how I ended up becoming a complementary therapist
My university years were easy enough, plus, when asked, I study Social Sciences' just sorted any doubt: it just sounded so posh. I was a university student and one of the future bright elite, destined to find, eventually, a decent job (of course with daddy's help, Italy being Italy).

What job, it was anybody's guess; I didn't have a clue. I knew I wanted to work somewhere with people I could talk to, and had enjoyed all historical subjects at uni. Stories stories stories. All I wanted to do was telling and listening to stories.
I took on a job at a local shop to get a bob or two and integrate my meagre student income: it was one of these gigantic tourist traps where only Chinese tourists shop. The owner themselves were Chinese and had all these huge groups delivered, and, boy they sold. It was a total rip off, but I guess being bang in the centre of Piazza della Signoria in Florence gives you some leverage.
The bags and leather goods were distinctively overpriced, although the tourists didn't seem to notice. We had this system where we had to give them about 20% discount and I constantly got it wrong, maths not being my strongest point.
I, for my part, had told the Chinese woman a few bubbles myself. Let just say I had enhanced my language skills on the Cv, and was caught a bit off guard when she asked me to give her English tuition. One thing was talking with the tourists, another was explaining grammar...she wasn't joking: she looked me straight in the eye and I wondered if I should consider such request a honour, and if I was going to get paid for it.
Just as well: I left the glittery world of fashion retail for more calm pursuits, namely a part-time nanny position. That suited me to a tee: free meals, no standing, and no difficult calculations. I loved the children although I soon discovered the parents could be stressful. They seemed to expect Mary Poppins or something, and I could only do my best.
I did it for two years, for two different families, until I graduated. I had a spell in a local club serving beer. I hated the drunk Florentines who would say just about anything to a young good looking girl stuck behind the bar: I just couldn't take it. I hated to see them drink and hated to listen to them coming out with the worse in their personalities. The women weren't much better but at least they didn't stare at my breasts.
Graduation came and went: it was the 2nd July. I blackmailed

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