Sometimes I miss my own landlord Brunin. I just cross the threshold to see leaning on the counter for a glass of Vermentino slate with the support of a delicious bruschetta spread with pesto. Just look. It's all automatic. How nice ...
The other day I had the misfortune to enter a hyper-bar in the center of a city. The sign (aged skillfully by a team of experts in marketing) and brought the local as an old-fashioned bar. The pictures inside were depigmented by time, the walls were scaccheggiate of ancient ancestors with shining eyes. In a corner of the ceiling hung a cobweb-perfect, but I think this is due more to poor cleaning effect that vintage. I was a bit 'embarrassed not deny it.
It is precisely when they are filled with this kind of feeling that are more prone to bullshit.
fact, punctual, arrived. Here it is: I asked the bartender (a tanned guy with the gel and watch a no-limits) a simple coffee.
She looks at me strange, almost angrily. "A cup of coffee? Short, long, hot spots, spotted cold a Mocaccino, ginseng. And above all, in which cup? ". I say, more and more uncomfortable - and therefore more exposed to the gaffe - "Normal ...». The stupidest thing you can say, I know. Today the norm is banned. Scazzatissimo me an espresso and I support him on the counter, avoiding to meet my gaze. I think of him otherwise.
I realize that the story is not over. In fact: no sugar. I anguish fossil halls throughout the body up to the throat. The result is a breath that looks like a delicate prelude to tears: "Excuse me, sugar?". "Sugar? But such as cane, dietary, aniseed, maraschino, fruity? Or rather, glucose, honey and chestnut to maple? ". Cold sweat, hold back the urge to vomit from too much tension. Another gaffe: "Normal ...». The superabbronzato not stand me more. Supports me in front of the muzzle a bag of granulated sugar, shaking his head. Finally, sipping espresso normal, normal sugar.
Esco without saying (I should also have a digestive, but ...), I avoid photographing mentally bartender, local and away, to not repeat the mistake.
I climb on the car and take the highway. God, how I miss you ... Brunin
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