Lunchtime: What to do, where to go? I am starving and I can’t eat anymore fast food, it’s so greasy and filling. I have just left class and my mom, boyfriend and I are equally experiencing hunger pangs. First stop, Giacomo’s; none of us have ever been there before and it has always been in the back of my mind to try it. I park right on the corner of State and Franklin Street, anticipating at the very least a good Italian sub sandwich or a cannoli. I should have known that it might’ve not been the best place to go given the man that had parked in front of me who is now staring me down for parking behind him. It always interests me how people become so offended over the littlest, insignificant things.
Giacomo’s is interesting to say the least. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me but I don’t understand how people feel as though they have the right to judge not only myself but my family based on appearance. I am used to it but I don’t believe my mom has anything to do with who I chose to be. Regardless, we are looking at menus despite the trendy populace shooting us the death glare. After a few moments, I can tell that the menu is anything but authentic: My mom asks if the soups are made in store, the girl at the counter replies “No” snidely, the cold-cuts are all riddled with sulfites and they only offer one brand, and the dishes are extravagantly priced given what they offer which is very little. After a few moments of reviewing the choices, I have decided to leave so that we can go to our favorite place a few feet down the street.
The Bagel Shop has been a favorite of mine for some time now and given our wonderful experience at the other restaurant, I have no qualms about eating there. We walk in the front door and the line is not so bad, fairly short with a variety of people looking to get lunch on the go. The menu is extensive, but I already know what I want. We order, get our number and take our tray in search of a free table. The dining area is filled with people indulged in their own conversations and meals, just the way I like it.
After taking my seat, I’m glancing around at the people who are coming and going. First person I see: A gruff looking older man, probably in his late 50’s. He’s wearing a winter coat and has quite the big bushy beard. Sadly, he’s sitting quietly by himself eating a bagel with cream cheese and the cream cheese has unknowingly spread into his beard. He’s reading a newspaper with his backpack and hat on the floor next to him.
Next: A couple in their late 20’s or 30’s, could be friends or on a first date having lunch together . The man is seemingly trying to act confident but is clearly nervous by his anxious position. Perhaps it was an adulterous affair, who knows? He wore a button up shirt and khaki slacks as if on a lunch break from work and he removed his tie for a more casual meeting with his friend. The woman was far more lax in her attire, sporting jeans, a button up shirt and a messy pony tail as if it were a spur of the moment tryst. She seemed to linger on his every word despite his blatant attempts to impress her.
As I continue to survey the lobby, I just heard our number called which has pulled me back to the table. My boyfriend gets up to retrieve the food and I am sinking back into people-watching. Who’s next? A pretentious woman in her mid to late 30’s pounding away at her laptop. Her stringy hair is hanging in her face and it barely reaches past the shoulder of her green floral print dress. A man is approaching, and I think he’s asking to join her, to which she is shrugging him off as though he were an insect invading her cyber-picnic. She is however smiling on occasion as her fingers tap at the keys in front of her. Maybe she is a writer or talking with an old friend? She is absorbed in whatever she is doing; the building could be burning down and she wouldn’t notice.
My boyfriend drops the tray on the table, retaking his seat in order to enjoy his turkey and bacon sandwich, my mom is having lentil soup and a bagel, and I am having a Reuben. The people continue to come and go, but I am now too engrossed in my food to watch people any further. The coleslaw is amazing and the pickle makes me forget that I was even concerned with my surroundings.
I think week 2 becomes tricky when the writer is a major player in the description and not mostly the observer, and it becomes even trickier when the writer is remembering past actions instead of current ones because then there is necessarily a lot of reconstruction as opposed to fresh observation.
ReplyDeleteI think the handicaps you've laid on yourself lead to over-writing, trying too hard. Verbs like 'mumbled,' 'pondered,' 'said abruptly,' and phrases like trees glowed, dove into, spilling over, waves crashed, plopping down, and many others all show how seriously you want this to be visual, how sincere you are in trying to communicate the scene and mood--but for my money, they don't work.
If the reader is very aware of a writer's technique, as he is here, the writer has a problem.
I'll continue to work on this one as well as the rest of my late work, Hopefully I'll be able to fix this although I think I'm going to have to do an entire rewrite in an entirely different area
ReplyDeleteThis rewrite works! All that overwriting, overreaching, overtrying is gone here--we get a much greater sense that you are confident in your writing and your material.
ReplyDeleteThe people-watching vignettes in the Bagel Shop are good, ending with the three of you finally getting some food is good.
Starting at Giacomo's is a good idea as far as writing (not eating goes) but all that stuff about people staring at you and judging you and your mother can only work if we have some sort of description of your appearance. Apart from that, you nail this.