I was in Florence, Italy on my honeymoon. We had rented a flat overlooking the Piazza della Repubblicca which had a nice kitchen. I wanted to cook our dinner this one night instead of eating out – chicken piccata. I found this really small butcher shop run by a elderly husband and wife team. Without reading any of the labels on the cuts of meat on display, I instead brandish my trusty English-Italian dictionary and work out how to ask for “Two chicken breasts please” – due seno di pollo. The old lady immediately bursts into a howling guffaw, and the old man turns beet red and looks very angry. He storms out from around the counter and angrily points into the display case in the area of the chicken and affirms, “petti di pollo, PETTI di pollo!” The old woman quiets down and her husband storms off into the back of the shop. She starts bagging the chicken, still looking very amused. I’m confused but I count out some money ond put it down beside the cash register. She places he bagged chicken down and rings me up. Before I leave, She leans over the counter and while looking directly into my eyes, cups both of her generous busoms with a rubbing motion, gives me a wink, and slowly whispers,Senoooo. It was at that moment the penny finally drops. I give the old bird a laugh and walk out feeling a little violated.