Breakfast is the most important meal of the day

9 o'clock he said. Meet you at the market square. We first intended to have coffee before work, but decided to turn it into breakfast while were at it. 9 o'clock and he was waiting nervously on the market square. My arrival was casually almost 5 minutes late, on time would be trying too hard, right?! What if he would be late, I'd be standing there on time, waiting.

I see him from a far distance, I try not to hurry, but feel my legs taking an unknown speed-walking speed. His pearly whites shine in the fresh sunlight and soon enough we give each other a polite, nervous kiss on the cheek and say " hey" in a sultry tone. I grab his hand not knowing where we were about to have breakfast, but he leads the way. He promised me he knew a good place to have breakfast, so I was more than curious. We walk up some creaking old wooden stairs and end up in a loft.

" So this is my place" he said, I look around, mildy impressed. Seems like a settled guy; spacious loft, tighty, stylish. Mild turned into major soon after I saw the breakfast table. I try not to jaw drop. Champagne glasses ready to go, fresh O.J., croissants, bread, eggs, bacon...All you could wish for was there on the table. Rays of sunshine were coming through the window, completing the picture. He asked me if I wanted coffee, " Sure, a latte would be nice". He goes downstairs as I wait upstairs. Stiff I wait in the sofa. I notice some dust on the coffee table. Phewww! What a relief, this was the only indication that this was reality. He came back upstairs with the perfect latte ; 2 sugars and full on steamed milk on top creating the light cloud effect that any caffeine lover dies for. I carefully take a sip. The crystal sugar on top of the foam stuck to my lips. I lick it off in a shy manner, not trying to be overly sexy, of course.

We sit down at the breakfast table, we cheered to us. We shared laughter, ideas, jokes, and opinions.
Ever since then, we share everything, everyday.

This is the story on how we fell in love :) p.s. : Pictures of the lovebirds coming soon!

What shall we do with a drunken sailor?!

Weekly he visits the Italian restaurant I work at. I see him walk by often and each time he glares inside, with a certain craving. When he does come inside, he takes a seat at table 1 or table 2, each time. He hangs his coat across from him, his invisible companion.

He never looks into the menu, and I don´t care take out a piece of paper to write his order, because I know what he wants. He wants a pizza Del Mare and a glass of red wine. Every single week. Sometimes even twice a week. I can tell he is lonely.. Not only by the fact that he comes to eat by himself all the time. No. Also, because he asks extra, extra garlic on his pizza. Almost a filthy amount.

I bring his glass of wine, while the pizza boy is making his pizza. The pizza boy knew as well, the moment he walked in, he started looking for his muscles-squid-lobster-mix and was already in the process of making the pizza. Pizza pops out of the oven and I serve it to his table. The smirk on his face makes me giggle deep inside. The joy of getting his food, is dripping off of his face. His massive sailor beard moves along with his smile, whilst he says `Thank you. With extra garlic right?`. I comfort him by saying, `Yes sir, extra garlic, just for you`. He laughs and starts his feast. I try not to stare too much at him, even though I know he doesn't notice because he is living in his own little world. He is having a muttering monologue accompanied with the occasion laugh bursts.

I start imagining his life... He must have been a sailor on a big ship. He looks exactly like the Iglo fishstick sailor man, only with a longer beard. He has retired, but misses the sea now that he is permanently located on land. As he slices of a piece of his pizza and eats it, you can almost see the seafood come back alive and make his jelly belly go happy. He adds some more salt and pepper. The sneezing starts minutes after that. Each time, over and over again. Up to 5 times in a row. He obviously can´t handle the about of pepper he poured on. Instead of rationing the pepper and avoiding this massive sneeze attack, he sticks with it. Bro´s over hoes. Now that´s what I call friendship. He lost the love of his life due to the life on the sea. Left his wife behind and by years and years spent in the oceans they lost contact. The love for the sea was bigger than the love for love. He regrets it now... But lives by the saying that a mans love goes through the stomach. This is the only thought that soothes him, and justifies his love life loss at the end of the day. He finishes his food and asks for the bill. Gives me a `surprising` 2 Euro tip. He grabs his companion jacket from the other chair across from him, zips up, and leaves. He just mesmerized about his past, in full effect and it was lovely to watch...