Maybe it’s an overstatement, maybe I’ve lived in Albion for too long, maybe something else, but I think this story I’m writing down today synthesises Italy (some of it) pretty well.  «I was at the Vittorio Emanuele bus stop at three, maybe half past, in the morning. Waiting for the night bus with some friends. As you can imagine it was us and people from other countries, it was the middle of the night after all…
Suddenly a car comes running like crazy, you could tell the driver was drunk, and it crashes on another car. Parked. We run closer right away, two people with an Eastern European accent get there first, and whilst asking “how are you ma’am?” they open the door and search the car, before running away with a purse and a phone.

Meanwhile I’m calling the Carabinieri [a police-like military corps] emergency number, “there was an accident at Vittorio Emanuele, send someone”, and they say “it’s not our jurisdiction” and hung up. I try again, same number, and no one picks up at all. Meanwhile a Carabinieri squad car drives by, we wave, and you could see the accident, nothing happens. So I call an ambulance and traffic police.
When the ambulance arrives they start checking on the gal, who was talking about her phone and how bad things are in Italy, and do that for a while. Once they’re done they say “you’re staying with her, right?” and leave.
Traffic cops get there and ask “didn’t you call an ambulance?”, and we say “yes we called an ambulance, they came and left too”.»

Paraphrased from what Luca “Hairy Marshmallow” told me.

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