Retribution can take many forms. A novel form was seen recently in a Sicilian open air lounge bar set in a small square halfway up a steep hill. Picture the barmy night, relaxed atmosphere, LED lighting effects and soft music. The welcoming host beckons you in and seats you in a white leather sofa. Nuts, crisps, olives and something with hot bite entices to a drink out of necessity. As you glance at the menu the prices fade in and out of focus to the sound track of the Hitchcock’s “Psycho.” The knife, the shower curtain, you know the one.
Brave souls leave at this point and climb the narrow steps that lead from the bar. Here is where the novel form of retribution steps in. The bar owner deals with freeloaders who have eaten his crisps but failed to order a drink by waiting until the assailant is about 30 steps up or down the slope and lobs an olive with an accuracy honed over the years. It’s dark, the target never quite sure what it was or where it came from can only surmise the following morning as to how a black or green oily stain has appeared in the middle of the tee shirt. Apparently the bar man uses an un-stoned olive if you don’t leave a tip. There’s a moral somewhere; maybe by lowering his prices the bar owner would save a fortune on olives.