No Reservations

183/365

How odd. I'm reading a book titled "Without Reservations" while catching up with the brilliance that is Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations." It's probably both combinations that's making me long for faraway lands, metro stations, and hours spent outside the local cafe people-watching and book-reading.

Mimi's Cafe was the closest thing I had to Paris and to craving my wanderlust within a one-mile radius, so off I walked, camera around the neck and book in hand. Sure, it wasn't real French cuisine. And no, I was only surrounded by the morning rush of senior citizens instead of stylish Parisians. But I'm good at making do with what I have.

While I was devouring my crabcake florentine benedict, I noticed an elderly man wheel in his wife on her chair. They sat across from me and didn't exchange a single word together the whole time. It wasn't one of those comfortable silences brought on by years of confiding in each other. It was an awkward, quiet, lonely affair between the two, sipping their soups without laughter or smiles. Whenever the server passed by and asked him if he'd like anything else, the old man sounded so happy to get any sort of attention.

During a recent training exercise, I found out that most people would choose to spend a lifetime with anyone rather than grow old alone. As I watched the elderly couple, I realized I made the right decision when I designated my own personal happiness as top priority over everything else.