Reading Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love is not an easy thing to do, for I envy her so much at some points. I was still reading the part when she was in italy when i suddenly felt so hungry because it was 2 PM already and I hadn't had my lunch today. And being in this city, having lunch is quite challenging. Not to mention that now I'm alone here since my partner was back to Jakarta yesterday (and he was shocked by the airport tax which cost him 8000 IDR only!)
The Italy part was still some chapters to go but I couldn't deal with my hunger any longer. I decided to walk to some restaurants nearby. And thanks to miss Gilbert who writes such a provocative story about Italy (or was it just me being not too creative in finding a place to eat), I stepped into this pizza restaurant and ordered their pasta and cappuccino. Sounds italiano huh?
I wasn't even finishing another chapter of the book when my pasta came. Quick service, was it instant food or leftover from another table? And as i continued reading, my cappuccino was served by this waitress. I didn't care to look at her nor my cappuccino but I felt like she was waiting for me to react. So I took a glance at the drink and I realized what she was waiting for. The cappuccino looked ugly, I must say. They served the drink in a tall mug on a saucer. But I think that sloppy waitress made the drink spilled all over the saucer. And the cinnamon powder was also ugly, for they were everywhere on the mug, inside and outside (please tell me you got the picture, no?). And she was too lazy to clean it, so she just waited for my reaction whether I would complain or not.
I didn't feel like complaining, so i (again) continued reading the book. Finishing Gilbert's story in Italy, trying to compare what I was having for my lunch with Gilbert's fabulous lunch at every corner of Italy. At least we had some similarity that we both were having coffee and pasta. That was close. Yeah rrrriiiteee...
Now that I had finished the Italy chapter (the chapter that refers to the "eat" part) while eating Italian food, I'm wondering what I have to do to finish the other chapters: India and Indonesia (Bali). I can think of something with Balinese touch, but India? Never had any feeling about it. Maybe I can go to my relative's place in Ciputat, because she is half Indian.
Oh I hate this book.
The Italy part was still some chapters to go but I couldn't deal with my hunger any longer. I decided to walk to some restaurants nearby. And thanks to miss Gilbert who writes such a provocative story about Italy (or was it just me being not too creative in finding a place to eat), I stepped into this pizza restaurant and ordered their pasta and cappuccino. Sounds italiano huh?
I wasn't even finishing another chapter of the book when my pasta came. Quick service, was it instant food or leftover from another table? And as i continued reading, my cappuccino was served by this waitress. I didn't care to look at her nor my cappuccino but I felt like she was waiting for me to react. So I took a glance at the drink and I realized what she was waiting for. The cappuccino looked ugly, I must say. They served the drink in a tall mug on a saucer. But I think that sloppy waitress made the drink spilled all over the saucer. And the cinnamon powder was also ugly, for they were everywhere on the mug, inside and outside (please tell me you got the picture, no?). And she was too lazy to clean it, so she just waited for my reaction whether I would complain or not.
I didn't feel like complaining, so i (again) continued reading the book. Finishing Gilbert's story in Italy, trying to compare what I was having for my lunch with Gilbert's fabulous lunch at every corner of Italy. At least we had some similarity that we both were having coffee and pasta. That was close. Yeah rrrriiiteee...
Now that I had finished the Italy chapter (the chapter that refers to the "eat" part) while eating Italian food, I'm wondering what I have to do to finish the other chapters: India and Indonesia (Bali). I can think of something with Balinese touch, but India? Never had any feeling about it. Maybe I can go to my relative's place in Ciputat, because she is half Indian.
Oh I hate this book.