Lunchbreak

Today I went to Italy-for lunch.

No reason, really. I guess I just finally decided to follow the advice of my friends and do something ridiculous. It had been a typically frustrating morning at work and I needed to escape. Not from work, or the state, or even the country. I needed to get off this continent. So I did. Informing my boss that I was going to lunch, I drove to the bank, checked my accounts and went to Italy. Wonder of wonders, there were no long lines at the airport, no smartalek security people. Noone on the plane fell asleep on my shoulder or drunk themselves silly. Just smooth sailing. The moment I arrived in Naples, I went straight to the local outdoor market. It was incredible. I walked amidst bustling locals, wandering tourists, and countless entertainers as I shopped. My carefree perusing took nearly an hour as I located the finest Italian bread I could find, a brick of excellent cheese, and seven perfectly ripened tomatoes-still on the vine! I found a quiet spot in the Parco Castello and relaxed as I enjoyed my feast and observed the passerbys. Couples walked by hand-in-hand, whispering to each other in beautiful Italian and breaking out in occasional soft laughter, business people strode hurriedly to get someplace where they felt important, mothers and children strolled in the shade, and I sat in the middle of it all. I shared some of my lunch with an old man who didn't say much-just that he thought it fine of me to visit. He suggested that I try some of the excellent wine he'd been making for over 80 years and I eagerly accepted the invitation. But his daughter soon came to collect him and I gathered from her apologetic glances that there probably wasn't any wine. I settled for a White Zinfandel from the vineyard just adjacent to the park. Fantastic stuff. The breeze off the sea tinged the air with just a pinch of salt, energizing and inspiring me at the same time. I never wanted to leave that moment. Just to hold on and relish the peace.

Finally I collected myself enough to realize it was past time to return where I belonged. So I carefully wrapped my Safeway brand cheese, bagged the 99 cent, day-old French bread, closed the lid to the plastic carton of tamatoes, and crushed my Coke can. With a sigh, I jumped off the stage in the abandoned auditorium, put my food in the fridge, grabbed a mop, and went back to work.