So, I’m
sitting in a little bar in Roma, Italia, late one afternoon. Uhm, just in case
you don’t know – bars there aren’t like here. You go in there for a wonderful
croissant and cappuccino for breakfast. Or an amazing panini and cappuccino for
lunch. Or you can go in there for a pastry and a birra for breakfast. Trust me,
I saw that plenty of times while I was there and I still am not sure why anyone
thought that was a good idea at eight in the morning. Oh well, moving on with
my story. I’d come to like this little bar; it was right around the corner from
the apartment I was staying at. It had free wi-fi, which was nice and a comfy
couch in the back. The barman, on my first visit to the establishment, proudly
announced he was from California when he heard me speak. I called his bluff and
we had a good laugh over his, “Wish I was,” reply. Yup, on that afternoon, I’m
sitting there, reading a few e-mails while sipping a cappuccino. Then this
woman, who was about my age, plops down next to me mumbling, “Bloody eejit”.
Yikes, she had better not be referring to my friend the barman. However, since
she seemed distressed, was speaking English not Italian, I decided to asked
what was wrong. She then launches into a tale about her day, which was supposed
to be the highlight of her trip to Roma – the Sistine Chapel. Apparently, her
husband hadn’t seen it that way. Like me, she had ordered tickets online months
in advance so they wouldn’t have to wait in line. After picking up the tickets
and being given general instructions, they walked through security and into the
Vatican. They had then walked through the rest of the Vatican museum which ends
at the chapel. Before entering, they were reminded by an employee there was no
talking or photos allowed. Upon entering, her husband took her firmly by the
wrist and drug her through the place and out the back door. As she recounted
this to me, she was sobbing, her tear stained face a picture of disappointment,
her body heaving with her cries. She was also gulping the rather large glass of
wine the barman had brought over some time during her rant. She said she didn’t
even get a glimpse of the chapel – she was too busy trying not wipe out any
innocent bystanders in the extremely crowded room. Yikes, if it’d been me, I’d
have punched the guy and stood my ground in the middle of the chapel. I was
almost afraid to ask why in the world the guy would do something like that. In
the end, I didn’t have to – she told me willingly. Turns out he didn’t see the
point in staring at the walls and ceiling if you can’t talk or even take a
picture of the place. Uhm, that is the point – to look at the amazing artwork
of Michelangelo without interruptions. In life, there are many disappointments,
often because we’ve zigged when we should’ve zagged. But when these are cause
by the cruelty of someone else, they can be a very bitter pill to swallow. I
have no idea what happened to this couple in Roma, I don’t even know where he
was while she was spilling her guts out to me. But I do know this wasn’t going
to be an easy thing to overcome. Dreams don’t die easy – there was no going
back and saying “Oops, sorry, lets go look at the chapel together tomorrow.”
Not when they were planning on flying home to England in the morning. For many
people trips of a lifetime are just that – a one time shot, never to be
repeated. Think before you act, consider how your actions might affect someone
else and don’t be a dream crusher. Especially to someone you are close to and love…
So, I’m
sitting in a little bar in Roma, Italia, late one afternoon. Uhm, just in case
you don’t know – bars there aren’t like here. You go in there for a wonderful
croissant and cappuccino for breakfast. Or an amazing panini and cappuccino for
lunch. Or you can go in there for a pastry and a birra for breakfast. Trust me,
I saw that plenty of times while I was there and I still am not sure why anyone
thought that was a good idea at eight in the morning. Oh well, moving on with
my story. I’d come to like this little bar; it was right around the corner from
the apartment I was staying at. It had free wi-fi, which was nice and a comfy
couch in the back. The barman, on my first visit to the establishment, proudly
announced he was from California when he heard me speak. I called his bluff and
we had a good laugh over his, “Wish I was,” reply. Yup, on that afternoon, I’m
sitting there, reading a few e-mails while sipping a cappuccino. Then this
woman, who was about my age, plops down next to me mumbling, “Bloody eejit”.
Yikes, she had better not be referring to my friend the barman. However, since
she seemed distressed, was speaking English not Italian, I decided to asked
what was wrong. She then launches into a tale about her day, which was supposed
to be the highlight of her trip to Roma – the Sistine Chapel. Apparently, her
husband hadn’t seen it that way. Like me, she had ordered tickets online months
in advance so they wouldn’t have to wait in line. After picking up the tickets
and being given general instructions, they walked through security and into the
Vatican. They had then walked through the rest of the Vatican museum which ends
at the chapel. Before entering, they were reminded by an employee there was no
talking or photos allowed. Upon entering, her husband took her firmly by the
wrist and drug her through the place and out the back door. As she recounted
this to me, she was sobbing, her tear stained face a picture of disappointment,
her body heaving with her cries. She was also gulping the rather large glass of
wine the barman had brought over some time during her rant. She said she didn’t
even get a glimpse of the chapel – she was too busy trying not wipe out any
innocent bystanders in the extremely crowded room. Yikes, if it’d been me, I’d
have punched the guy and stood my ground in the middle of the chapel. I was
almost afraid to ask why in the world the guy would do something like that. In
the end, I didn’t have to – she told me willingly. Turns out he didn’t see the
point in staring at the walls and ceiling if you can’t talk or even take a
picture of the place. Uhm, that is the point – to look at the amazing artwork
of Michelangelo without interruptions. In life, there are many disappointments,
often because we’ve zigged when we should’ve zagged. But when these are cause
by the cruelty of someone else, they can be a very bitter pill to swallow. I
have no idea what happened to this couple in Roma, I don’t even know where he
was while she was spilling her guts out to me. But I do know this wasn’t going
to be an easy thing to overcome. Dreams don’t die easy – there was no going
back and saying “Oops, sorry, lets go look at the chapel together tomorrow.”
Not when they were planning on flying home to England in the morning. For many
people trips of a lifetime are just that – a one time shot, never to be
repeated. Think before you act, consider how your actions might affect someone
else and don’t be a dream crusher. Especially to someone you are close to and love…
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