"Dick, dick, dick, dick, dick. It's all my sister ever thinks about. Drives me nuts with her letters."
"Dick? What kinda dick?"
Rose shrugs. "Big dick, I guess. She's dating some black guy in LA right now. Before that, some Italian Fabio stud."
"A black guy? Catholic?"
"She's an atheist. My parents. I don't even wanna go there."
"So why'd you become a nun?"
"Men, you know..."
"Yeah. Creeps," the old guy says, taking a sip of his coffee, turning to look at the little palazzo next to the outdoor café. "I got nothin' against dick. I mean, I got one. And Rome's great for getting laid."
"Yeah, I heard clergy get discount rates from the hookers?"
"Most of 'em. There's pussy all over the Vatican. The Pope, he turns a blind eye. Some guys just need to get laid, and it don't mean they don't love Jesus or the Virgin."
"Clergy dick. Now there's something I haven't had since the priest took my virginity in the rectory."
The man blows coffee out his nose. "The priest?"
"Why'dya think I became a nun in the first place? Jeez. True love he told me. Lasted till he got assigned to a new parish."
"Shame. So . . . you one of those man-hating nuns then?"
"Not so much. It's been so long." She's giving the old guy a hungry look. He's charming. God forgives. "You're familiar from somewhere."
"I get that a lot." He shrugs again, managing to pat her hand, then leave it there. "How long 'till you go back to the States?"
"A couple days."
"Well, how 'bout this. I like your company, and I got a place here. You stay with me, no pressure or anything. Just friends, whaddya say?"
"Friends huh?" she says, and the guy understands: she'll be doing everything she can to get into his pants.
"Just friends, I swear."
"Hmm. Alright. That sounds good. I'll check outta of my room. Where you live?"
"There," he points.
She laughs. "Ah c'mon, get out."
"No, serious," he says, nodding towards the Papal residence. "That one's mine."
"Oh my god, you mean…"
He just smiles.