This story started here.
"How did you like the food, Ron?" Jan asked as we walked back to the hotel.
Ron shrugged. "It was okay." Her tone was neutral, but she had plowed through her ravioli with apparent enthusiasm.
"It's not surprising you liked it," Jan observed. "After all, you are part Italian."
"I am not!" she protested.
"Of course you are. I'm Italian, so you're one half."
Ron regarded this claim with evident skepticism. "'Sleet'?" she demanded. "That's Italian?"
Jan smiled. "That's my professional name. I was born Janice Stiglianese."
Ron looked at me and I confirmed this with a nod.
"That's a cool name," Ron said, putting her hands in her pockets. "You should have used that."