Just woke from a
very realistic dream….
I had kicked my
father out of a church-type gathering because he wouldn’t stop talking. Hours later I go to meet him to try and
talk about what happened. Instead,
he tells me that my mother has kept a secret from me. He says that I am actually an heir to a small pizza and beer
shop outside of Philadelphia.
Well, not an heir, but family.
My mother’s Uncle, Eugenio (Italian name starting with an E?) owns this
shop and they sell beer- something that I may be able to help with!
I hop on my motorcycle (yess!!!) and find this place. It seems like maybe it’s south philly, getting close to the burbs? It’s not huge, about the size of a convenience store and they have a few aisles of quick groceries and then a few aisles of refrigerators of beer and sodas. There are two ladies standing behind a small desk, directly underneath a large menu of different types of pizza one can order (there are cheeses and meats on there that you’d only find in Italy!). Both ladies have brown hair and brown eyes. One looks to be in her 60’s the other in her late 30’s. There is both rolls of dough and raw ingredients around them, like they are not only the cashiers, but also know how the pizzas are made and can explain things to the customers. There are a few customers in line and both of the ladies are talking to them about their order in a very familiar way- like there are regulars here and the matron remembers how he got his pizza the last time and this time they’ll add some extra ____. They are very friendly and the place has a warm, family vibe. In the corner, there is a black and white picture of an old man eating, his presumably wife sitting next to him laughing. Slowly I notice that the older lady (Italian name that starts with an “A” – Alberta? Andrea? Antonia?..) is speaking, and looking in my direction. No – wait- she’s talking to me! “Are you talking to me?” “Yes, Alex, don’t you recognize me?” “No. Do you know who I am??” I am shocked, but also have a feeling like I’ve somehow come home. She tells me that we met when I was very little. She says she wished Eugenio could’ve picked me up from the station. She tells me she’s been waiting for the day that I would walk into the store!
I hop on my motorcycle (yess!!!) and find this place. It seems like maybe it’s south philly, getting close to the burbs? It’s not huge, about the size of a convenience store and they have a few aisles of quick groceries and then a few aisles of refrigerators of beer and sodas. There are two ladies standing behind a small desk, directly underneath a large menu of different types of pizza one can order (there are cheeses and meats on there that you’d only find in Italy!). Both ladies have brown hair and brown eyes. One looks to be in her 60’s the other in her late 30’s. There is both rolls of dough and raw ingredients around them, like they are not only the cashiers, but also know how the pizzas are made and can explain things to the customers. There are a few customers in line and both of the ladies are talking to them about their order in a very familiar way- like there are regulars here and the matron remembers how he got his pizza the last time and this time they’ll add some extra ____. They are very friendly and the place has a warm, family vibe. In the corner, there is a black and white picture of an old man eating, his presumably wife sitting next to him laughing. Slowly I notice that the older lady (Italian name that starts with an “A” – Alberta? Andrea? Antonia?..) is speaking, and looking in my direction. No – wait- she’s talking to me! “Are you talking to me?” “Yes, Alex, don’t you recognize me?” “No. Do you know who I am??” I am shocked, but also have a feeling like I’ve somehow come home. She tells me that we met when I was very little. She says she wished Eugenio could’ve picked me up from the station. She tells me she’s been waiting for the day that I would walk into the store!
