Città vuota by Mina
I was reminded of Mina’s brilliance recently while watching an episode from the second season of White Lotus (which has been really fucking great, hasn’t it?)
A few days later, I was walking through an IGA grocery store in a suburb of Montreal, looking for dog food, when this song came on again; it indeed made the experience of comparing different kibbles more pleasant. I added it to a playlist. And then, as is always the case with this kinda thing, it happened again, in an Uber early this morning to a tuxedo rental shop (I’m going to a wedding on Saturday), the song came on—not the radio—but the Uber driver’s personal playlist.
‘You like Mina?’ I asked.
‘Who?’
So maybe not his personal playlist, but definitely from his phone.
‘Mina, the singer of this song.’ I replied as she belted the chorus.
‘Ohhhhh. Mina, you mean,’ he said, saying mina in a way that would make it rhyme with vagina.
‘Hmm, is it? Yea. I’m not sure. Yea, Mina.’ I said back, mimicking his stupid pronunciation.
‘Simply the best.’ He said, picking up a hand off the wheel to press his thumb into his index finger to make an A-OK circle. He then kissed the meeting point of thumb and index finger, the way Italians would after eating a great big bowl of spaghetti cooked by their mother.
Like out of a movie, he pulled up in front of the store just as the song was fading out.
And then I’m in the dressing room of this tuxedo shop, at like 9:15 am, half asleep, and wouldn’t you know it—Città Vuota on the store’s speakers, just as the man has a measuring tape around my neck—apparently different shirts have different neck sizes.
‘You’ll need to be able to breathe, to make sure the bow tie doesn’t cho-’
‘No shit!’ I said.
‘What?’
‘It’s Mina again.’ I said it the vagina way—Miiina.
‘Mina.’ He corrected me, giving me a look as if I were a pervert, taking back the tape measure from around my neck.
‘Oh right, yea. Crazy.’ I began to respond.
‘Yea, Mina.’ He said again, pronouncing it the right way (Meena).’
‘It’s nuts cuz this is like the fourth time I’ve heard this song play in two days.’
‘Oh yeah?’ He responded, rolling up the tape measure.
‘Yeah. And it’s not one of the new ones, you know? Pretty weird. I wonder what that means. If that means anything, or if it’s just a stupid coincidence.’
‘Yeah, I don’t know.’
‘I actually wonder, sometimes, if most things we attribute with meaning are just useless coincidences that have nothing behind them, if our perception in general is formed out of futility, absolute nothingness. That would really make this whole world we’re living in out to be somewhat of a dumb simulation, not like a computerized simulation, more just a world that’s completely false, filled with lies and self-deception. It’s possible, don’t you think?’
‘I’ll be right back with the pants.’