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Saturday, May 2, 2015

The Hemingway Experience: Day 3 - Rain, and Dinner for One

This means you.
I awoke, and slept, then woke again. A strange feeling on me this morning - certainly not a hangover, I’ve had enough of those as to see them coming from a mile away, and it doesn’t appear I can drink enough at sea level. It’s like a fogginess. Maybe it’s to do with the heat, but here it is even 6pm and I’m still feeling groggy. I was determined to find a place to write, enjoy a coffee and look for summer footwear, but after walking into what I thought was a general store (in actuality, a “Chino”, or Chinese run market selling food and drink and reeking of piss), and the coffee place being closed (Mayday possibly, I couldn’t tell but there were a few places shuttered in the early afternoon), and finally, the rain came, it was a day of staying in, reading and writing on my balcony. I’ve been coming up with some stuff lately that I’m actually really impressed with, but it seems I’m also discovering more about myself than I thought, and so early on in the trip. 
I dreamt of a girl at a party last night; it doesn’t matter who, only that she was beautifully dressed, and it made me realize how lonely I have become. It’s a horrible feeling, made worse by my abject aloneness in this city of strangers.  I’m nervous to get in a cab, nervous to use my credit card at a place I’m not 100% sure is upstanding (I’ll be damned if some cab driver lifts my details) and so I’m wandering the streets. When it isn’t raining of course. 



The night has cleared and cooling down. Officials (bartenders) say we're supposed to be getting a big pacific storm tonight or tomorrow. The surfing was meant to be all time today, never before seen swells of 15ft, breaks for big boys. The gnar before the storm I guess. Around 7pm I bit the bullet and went for a compromise - dining alone and finding comfort food. In my case, thin crust pizza. I was able to sit outside at il Carpaccio, where my aloneness was drowned out by a large group of Americans a couple of tables over.  The hardest part is leaving the house. We're brought up to believe that the guy sitting alone doesn't have anyone to eat with, and that food is a social experience. As I sit here, it's really not so bad - almost empowering, in a "you can't sit with me" kinda way.
I drink beer fast, but I can't get over how quickly my beer bottle sweats and eventually gets warm. I've adopted the tradition of using a napkin as a coaster to soak up the puddles of condensation.
First course was the sea bass carpaccio. I'll admit, I saw "carpaccio" and I assumed beef, but it turned out to be sea bass. That said, I can't remember the last time I took a bite and said "Holy shit”. 
Out loud. 
By myself. 
About a salad. 
I can’t pretend to be a food critic, but that’s some pretty good advertising for them. 4 seasons pizza next - if you’ve had one, you’ve had em all. Still good, don’t get me wrong, definitely scratched the itch. 



Quiet one thanks to the weather - starting to blow a hard wind so I picked up a couple of beers, got into the Netflix, and realized Good Will Hunting was on there. It’s been years since I’ve seen it; one of those movies that gets so much better once you’ve experienced a little more of life. If you haven't seen it in a while, be prepared to feel. If you've never seen it, what the hell, man?

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