Today is Wednesday and at this very moment I am enjoying a day off from work by running a handful of errands and taking in some much needed California sun. The sky is spotless, the breeze that whispers behind me has subtle undertones of necessary warmth, and a jumble of sounds ranging from soft conversation to passing traffic surround my senses as I finish a burrito prepared by a local establishment named "Lucinda's". This particular restaurant has become engrained as a staple eatery from my youth and today is the first reunion that we have made since embarking on my trip down south over eight months ago.
The dining experience that has just unwrapped itself is exactly how it was since leaving and more importantly is feels like a pulsing case of deja-vu from the first introduction I made with this restaurant many years ago. The aroma is savory and eat bite feels like a newly opened chapter from my internal book of memories. One soft epologue of Mexican style goodness brings a flash of just finishing an intense lacrosse practice, a second page break brings an image of getting ready to see a Giants game in San Francisco, a third editor's note invades my vision with a notion of going to an out-of-touch friend's house, and the list goes onward until the meal runs short on words. As time continues to pass and a rotating wheel of orders being taken by the clerk behind me goes from the process of verbal questions to physical product in hand the pages of recollections continue to race directly in front of me until at last there sits an empty remnant of tin foil wrapping, a satisfied stomach, and a shutter of incompleteness. Goosebumps send a chill through my body because each chapter in my mind springs attention with a proper build up of plot, character development, and ocassional conflict resolution but very shortly the final sentence gets cut off before I can see what happens next.
At this point the restaurant is filled with customers and it is time for me to yield my seat so someone else can open up their newly acquired and steaming book of memories. To fill the sudden void that has engulfed my consciousness I decide to stand on my now sleepy feet and aimlessly search my pockets as if something more interesting besides a wallet and keys is sitting within their confines. The sun blinds my eyes as I hop back in my car and realize that everything inside "Lucinda's" was exactly the same as the last time I ate there, everything except me. Will the next meal here have as good of a story line? My phone soon begins vibrating to attention as I pull away from the parking lot and the image of "Lucinda's" yellow engraved street sign fades away into the oblivion of my rear-view mirror. It's time to add more chapters.
