Friday, September 3, 2010

The barman



This morning I have entered in a new bar for breakfast.
The guy is about 55. He said hello to a lady, wonderful lady. We look to each other as men do while he is preparing my coffee.
"You know, I have been away for 9 months".
In 5 minutes he tells me more or less his life. Is this a sign? Maktub.
"I have been living in Milan for 25 years. I have worked here for 17 years and then I decided I wanted to change. It is not easy, you know? You need to take courage and do it. But I needed to see other places, other people. At the end the bar owner called me back and I am back. I have tried to stay away from this city but I missed the caos that you can find here, the "business men" entering the bar with the newspaper on one hand and the Blackberry on the other hand."
He tells this in a deferential way, as if he is thinking that he is a step below the rest of the world. But it is wrong. He is a step above than anyone else, or at least at the same level. Maybe not from a financial perspective but I am not sure this is what really matter.
For sure he is not part of the Superclass.

Paulo Coelho wrote:
It didn’t take him long to see that the Superclass are as dependent on their success as an addict is on his drugs, and nowhere near as happy as those who want nothing more than a house, a garden, a child playing, a plate of food on the table, and a fire in winter.
The guy is from South of Italy. And he talks about his home with the eyes of someone who has lot of experience. When I go home, everything is quiet and nice. You feel alright, lot of people take care of you, you drink and eat the whole day. "I have tried to work there but I missed Milan and the caos".
Adaptation. Or, maybe, simply crazyness.

He spoke to me about "the son of my wife" as if it is a normal thing to happen. Maybe he was talking about a love that is "beyond".
His tie with a questionable node, a old white shirt and a jacket that would keep you hot even if mid December.
BUt he takes care of the bar, of *his* coffee machine and he makes hundred of coffee per day. But always impeccable. Because even in what you do everyday you have to be impeccable, not only when doing special things.

1 comment:

ely said...

questa storia non mi è nuova..:) certi incontri ti riconciliano col mondo...soprattutto al mattino...