The best part of working in a coffee shop in Italy was that people came in, made polite small talk and then they walked out. Just like that. No important part of their lives was shared with me, nothing essential in their personality I could percept.
The second best thing was that I could read and read all I wanted to. Who was there to tell me not to? In the long hours in which no one showed up in the coffee shop, I could simply make myself a cappuccino and sit on the confy couches next to the "bancone".
In my hand I had my tattered old copy of "The Catcher in the Rye", my favorite book of all time; I guess I felt a Holden at heart, and like him I was scared of the future, scared of making choises, I was a great procrastinator. So I kept reading that book, searching for inspiration within myself, to try and figure out what I was supposed to do and who I was supposed to be.
The funny thing was that I identified in one of the most famous characters in the history of literature, but at the same time I wanted to be with that character: somebody with that kind of personality, who cared about things the same way he did...
I was thinking of all this, until he walked in; then, everything changed.