After what seemed like an eternity going round the city in circles, David decided it was time to treat himself to a fancy meal. It had been a while since he last went to a nice restaurant. Before he decided where to go, he noticed that during his long walk his mind had gone completely blank. It was as though he had fallen asleep or gone unconscious during that time.
It reminded him of the many times he would find himself back at home after a night out with his friends and would wake up the next morning in his bed or on the sofa unable to recall what had happened since the last time he was aware of his surroundings. Only this time he was not drunk, and he still couldn’t figure out what had just happened.
He figured it must’ve been from gradually feeling more relieved now that he was uncuffed from his work shackles. He didn’t give this much thought and decided to go to The Golden Fork, one of his favorite spots in town. The restaurant was only a few blocks away from where he was standing.
The waiters greeted him warmly as soon as he walked through the door.
“David! Long time no see. How have you been? Table for one today?” said Peter.
“I’m glad to be here as usual, Peter. Things got very busy the past few weeks. But I’m glad to be here today. Celebrating my layoff! So yes, a table for one, but it’s a special day today, Peter. I’m off to a new beginning, and it’s great to be able to kick it off here.”
“Layoffs are tough, but I’m glad to see you so energized! I can’t recall when was the last time you had such an upbeat vibe! We should raise a glass to new beginnings, then! Let me get you the menu first. What would you like to drink?”
“I’ll have a Laphroaig 18, neat. As for the menu, don’t bother with that. I’ll take the tomato salad first, two croquettes, and the steak tartare for the main, then I’ll go with the cheese board for dessert.”
“Perfect, David. I’ll get that started for you right away.”
Peter poured David a glass of Laphroaig, and went on attending other tables. As he savoured the whiskey, he looked around the vibrant restaurant.
The Golden Fork had a particular charm to it. It was the type of restaurant that didn’t need to try hard to keep the tables filled with new and returning customers. The food was fresh, with the chef’s creative twist. It was medium-sized, and almost always full. For dinner, you almost always needed to reserve a table. The interior was minimalistic; white tablecloths, a mix of abstract and modernist paintings hung on the walls, and soft instrumental music played quietly in the background.
As David glanced around, he saw a couple at the corner table deep in discussion over wine, awaiting their food, while a businessman sitting by the window was scrolling through his phone and enjoying his risotto. At another table, what seemed like two colleagues raised their glasses in what looked like a celebratory toast, their empty plates pushed aside. Probably co-founders who have either raised money or just launched their product, he thought.
—
Once he finished his reconnaissance round, in between sips of whiskey, Peter placed the salad and croquettes at the table, and wished him a delightful meal.
David thanked Peter, grabbed the cutlery, and dug in, enjoying the freshness of the tomatoes drizzled with olive oil and garnished with basil, and the crispiness of the soft croquettes filled with ham and smooth cheese.
Each bite tasted like newfound freedom. Food had tasted differently that day, he thought. It was as though he had been present in the moment, relishing the food with all his senses. But it wasn’t the first time he had experienced such a sense-awakening moment in his life. He went down memory lane. A year earlier, he had felt this same intensity when he finally returned to restaurants after an excruciating lockdown during the pandemic.
He had lost count of how many days he was stuck at home, working remotely, ordering in, doing some exercise, and escaping for a few hours to go for a run to keep in shape, mentally and physically. For a few weeks everything was almost completely shut down except for essential services like supermarkets and hospitals. Restaurants were open, but could only deliver food.
The first week of the lockdown was bearable. It didn’t feel like anything had radically changed. All work meetings were moved online. Everyone was posting pictures of themselves on social media half-dressed, work clothes from the waist up, and pajamas from the waist down. Social media was flooded with all kinds of content. All of a sudden, everyone was imprisoned. Some, like David, found themselves in solitary, while others were living with their partners, and others with their families and kids. To pass the time, some took to baking, others to reading, board games, writing, movies, you name it.
David found the whole thing amusing at first. He finally had more time to read, watch movies, and just chill in silence with a glass of whiskey. After the fourth or fifth week, though, he was already missing outdoor activities, bumping into people, dating, partying with his friends, and enjoying a heated conversation over a nice meal with a bunch of people with whom he strongly disagreed.
When the restrictions were finally lifted, the first thing David did was go to The Golden Fork to recharge his social battery and delight himself with a wonderful meal. He could still remember the heavenly taste of the first bite: a simple piece of bread with butter that somehow tasted like the entire world had opened up again.
The world post-pandemic was never the same. It was polarized, people were being witch-hunted over their politics, what they thought about the new vaccines, and a host of other issues. Many were getting canceled for things they said online, everyone was angrier in what seemed like the culmination of years of partisanship and mounting rage. People were visibly stressed, worn down, and suspicious of everything that happened around them. Anyone could be next, and their professional and personal lives would be turned upside down in no time.
The increased sense of isolation was terrible. David managed to mindfully protect himself from the lunacy surrounding him. In the months leading up to his layoff he had become almost a recluse, keeping to himself, and only hanging out with a few of his friends around whom he felt comfortable.
The pandemic and post-pandemic flashback made him realize that he was not only finally liberated from his day job, but that he had been inadvertently suffocating in the city where he lived. While he enjoyed living in the city of opportunities, and had pursued a fulfilling lifestyle, he felt like it was time to breathe in fresh air elsewhere. He picked up his phone in one hand while taking a sip of whiskey with the other, opened his photo gallery and clicked on the last image he had saved the night before. It all made sense then, he thought. The cover of the novel read “Night Train to Lisbon” by Pascal Mercier.
He immediately bought the ebook, and decided to spend the rest of the day reading this mysterious novel which had appeared on his timeline the night before.
Sometimes the path reveals itself to us without even trying, he thought.
Peter appeared just in time to remove the empty plates, clean up the table, and set up for preparing a slightly spicy and beautifully presented steak tartare tableside.
—
As Peter prepared the steak tartare, he and David conversed about what they’d been up to lately, how they were holding up, how the business was going, some sports trash-talking, and what David had in mind for his next chapter.
“I’m not quite sure, Peter. Frankly, I think it’s too early to tell. I think I’ll be taking a sabbatical, go somewhere where I can relax, maybe Europe. Who knows, I might even do a Eurotrip. Discover new places, meet new people, and take a break from all this hectic rhythm. I’ve been at it for quite some time now. Time to chill a bit. I’m not sure, though. I’ll probably figure it out in the next few weeks.”
“I hear you, David. That sounds like a solid plan. Sometimes you just need to step back and reset. Come back in full force and ready to conquer the world. I actually went to Europe during my gap year before I started college. I went to Spain to study Spanish in a nice small university city not too far from Madrid. Salamanca. Ah, that year was amazing. We partied like animals until sunrise. Great vibes. Cheaper than the bigger cities. I learned some Spanish, mingled with the locals at the punk rock bars, and had the chance to do some backpacking to visit other Spanish and European cities when I had the opportunity. Incredible time, great culture, friendly folks. I’m sure you’ll have a blast if you end up visiting Europe.”
“That sounds awesome. That explains the Spanish I sometimes overhear you speaking to other customers. Traveling is a great way to see different places, meet new people, and have interesting stories to tell over drinks with friends and family. I admire your attitude, Peter. You’ve just made me realize that I’ve been grinding non-stop since my school days. And here you are, studying and working, but you’ve done so much cool stuff, discovering the world. This is what, your fourth year of college? You’ve got a bright future ahead.”
“Yep, thank you David. I’m done in two semesters, and then I’ll see where the world takes me. Here’s your spicy tartare, ¡Qué aproveche!”
“Thank you, Peter!”
That was the first instance David had brought up the idea of travel. The conversation with Peter struck a chord. It made him reflect more deeply about how he had not taken a proper break. He had traveled on holidays before, but never for more than 3 or 4 weeks at most. He also had to travel for work occasionally, but he was always busy jumping from one meeting to the next, and barely had opportunity to properly explore any of the cities he had visited.
What does a sabbatical even look like? Is that what unemployed individuals and burned-out university professors call the period they spend trying to search for a job or recover from their stressful academic lives? What’s one supposed to do when they’re not working or studying? Hang out by the beach? Read books? Have a drink? And then what? Learn a different language or take a cooking course?
David noticed his thought patterns. He had swallowed the tech-bro grit-and-grind pill. Every activity had to be done for one goal: climbing up the career ladder or making more money. At times it was just grinding for grinding’s sake. But now he was jobless, and had more than enough money. Surely he could unlearn this grind mindset, reconnect with his inner self, and discover fresh interests?
His mind went blank. One phrase kept floating. “Night train to Lisbon,” as he finished his steak tartare and his second glass of whiskey.