I’m writing this post sipping a strawberry Italian soda.
For those who don’t know, this is an Italian soda:
A blackberry Italian soda from Senhor Google
Photo, courtesy of my handheld computer camera
Not the sweetest of drinks, an Italian soda is just fruit-flavored syrup mixed into sparkling water. However, it’s cool and refreshing.
All around, it’s pretty great… Unlike how my day started.
After waking up this morning (later than I had planned, after ignoring several alarms), I realized that I had better get going. I had planned to meet with school officials, and they would likely go out on lunch break if I didn’t put my skates on. Stuffing a handful of dried apricots into my mouth, I scrambled to catch the first bus to my place of employment. I was taking care of business. The thing was, the person who I needed to talk to wasn’t there. No, she wasn’t on lunch break, she was traveling and wouldn’t be back for a few days. I couldn’t complain as I knew the risk I was taking by not calling first, but even though I didn’t resolve the main issue I had to discuss, I was able to clear up some smaller things with another official.
Now, after a morning like that, I figured a good way to cheer myself up would be to get tapioca.
Let me clarify something: I am not talking about tapioca pudding, as wonderful as that would be. There is absolutely no connection with the line from Piers Plowman (Passus 5, 354) that reads “And he coughed up a custard…”, no matter what you say.
What I am talking about is the tapioca that you eat with açaí berry, usually with a spoon.
If you are curious about where tapioca comes from and how else it is used in cooking, click on the following link: LINK TO TAPIOCA WIKI.
The tapioca that I had, though, was not meant to be eaten in a bowl with spoon, but IN YOUR HAND.
It was like a taco made out of melting starch!!! Actually, that was exactly what it was. 😀
The bad news is that… it wasn’t so good, even if I got my favorite stuff fillings: Calabrese sausage, “beef jerky” and “four cheeses”. I think the cheese was overkill. And I stained my white dress shirt too.
Needless to say, I was not cheered up by the tapioca. and my stomach wasn’t flying high either after all that cheese. So after hobbling to the nearest bus stop, cradling my paunch, I wasn’t too upset when I found out that the bus would be a while. That gave me the crazy idea of getting a plate of sushi to make me feel better. But I was already full, so walking to a restaurant with a stomach ache wouldn’t be worth it. Sadness washed over me like the melted folds of unappetizing cheese that I had just eaten.
With a sparkle in my eye, I made a decision. I would dispell the gloom of my dilemma with some sparkling water, namely a rookie called Lemon Soda.
NOTE: At the time of this writing, the Lemon has been reported missing. The last one believed to have seen him is Detective Strawberry Soda, Lemon’s Italian cousin, who is currently investigating my esophagus for evidence. Little do they know I have a surprise planned for Strawberry. Muhahahahaha!
Putting the mundane details aside, when I arrived at my favorite downtown eatery, the Guitta Cafe (it used to have guitars hanging from the wall which you could play or purchase), I set up at the counter, gave my order, and waited.
The high traffic in the cafe, caused by what I can only imagine must have been the hubbub caused by the opening of the World Cup later in the afternoon, meant that I had to wait an unreasonable amount of time to receive my drink. One of the people adding to the delay was a young woman with green glitter adorning her eyelids, flaunting their stuff whenever she blinked. That must hurt, I thought to myself. My mood wasn’t getting any better when I finally got my first glass of Italian soda.
But HEY, it was all worth it! And you know why? Because of what the old woman said.
Waitress: “Have you been attended, ma’am?”
Old Woman: “No. I want a bacon cheeseburger.”
BOOM! The white-haired, tennis-shoe-wearing ancient ordered a BACON cheeseburger!
Yep, that Bacon Grandma just made my day (But nobody can compete with you, Grandma Donna, or you, Vovó Esther!)
Now that I think about it, it probably made YOUR day to, since it was what prompted me to start writing on my tablet. I wrote 90% of this post with the device held below the Green Butterfly granite counter top, hidden from the gaze of the general passerby on the street. Gotta be safe with electronics in public these days.
No need to worry about my craving for sushi, either. I came up with an excuse to come this way gain next week, so sushi is only that far away, and I know it won’t disappoint.
Oh, and Happy First World Cup Game Day!