And so I stop, and I ponder, “What would make this moment even better?” “Oh my god. A cappuccino.” So I search. I walk around the square and see that nothing is open. I walk to the shop across from school, and they tell me that the cappuccino machine has been turned off for the night. I frown, and the barista’s face drops…gosh I love Italian expressions…he genuinely feels bad for me and says sorry a million times over. “It’s okay,” I say, “Niente”(no problem). I walk out of the coffee shop, slowly worried that I will not find my midnight cup of Joe. I tear up a little bit thinking about how much my moment in front of the Duomo would be intensified with just a cappuccino—it didn’t have to even be the best cappuccino in the world—it just had to be simple foamy covered shot of espresso.
And then from across the Piazza Del Repubblica. I saw a shop that was still open, and so I hurried along. Once inside, I crossed my fingers behind my back , approached the register and said “Forse…Prendo un cappuccino porta via per favore,” (Maybe… Can I take a cappuccino to go please?) The man behind the register pointed at the barista who was clearly polishing the Danish window. “Si si,” said the barista at the window, and he scurried behind the counter, a bit confused. A few moments later, I had my cappuccino in hand…and I was standing in front of the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I was walking around it. I was admiring it. I was sipping my cappuccino. I was licking my lips which each gulp. I was living out one of the most monumental moments since I had been here. I was indulging in two wonderful things at once. I wasn’t in any rush, and I wasn’t thinking about anything else. I was truly enjoying the simple things in life--I was truly living.
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