The “Sad People Restaurant”

Once upon a time, there was a restaurant in Trastevere (Rome) along one of the filthy, cobblestone streets leading to Piazza San Cosimato. We nicknamed it the “Sad People Restaurant”.

One evening, we ambled around the neighborhood seeking dessert and a drink. There was a mostly-empty sidewalk terrace with a dimly lit table for four. After seating ourselves, we were eventually greeted by a woman who seemed to be the owner. She didn’t greet us in a traditional manner, though. She acknowledged our presence by rolling her eyes back into her skull and subtly nodding to an unhappy male waiter, as if to say “Look who’s shown up. Should we serve them?” He responded to her with a shrug, as if to say “Yeah, more clients. I am tired of them too.”

We were ignored by the pair for a brief eternity. Then, I dared to ask for four glasses of red wine and two portions of tiramisu. They looked at each other, as if to say “You’re gonna get that, right?”

Why did they seem so upset? We speculated as we waited for our acidic wine and a sour substance they claimed was tiramisu, which only brought us down (tiramisu means roughly, lift me up). Did their cat die? Did they lose their lease? Did the chef call in sick again? After assessing the owner and waiter, we concluded that they were simply rude and sad.

After that unfortunate evening, the “Sad People Restaurant” intrigued me each time I happened by. The owner stands in the doorway and frowns. The diners mope as they twirl their spaghetti con vongole or reach painfully for their wine glass. I would like to think that the restaurant is clever at marketing. After all, there are a lot of sad (and rude) people in the world. Perhaps this was a way of building a niche “tribe”.

Most clients, though, seem trapped and confused. The neighborhood is nice enough and the large, white, globe-shaped lamps are inviting. As they taste their tepid meal and clink glasses, they gaze out through the dry, potted bushes that surround the sidewalk terrace like caged animals at a zoo. They make gestures to passers-by, as if to say, “Please help us” or “Keep walking, quickly.”

Tonight, as we returned home after enjoying a wonderful gelato, we passed the “Sad People Restaurant”. The terrace was surprisingly full. There was no laughter, though, and people only whispered things like “Can you pass the salt?” and exhaled responses like, “OK.”

We reached the end of the sidewalk and I stretched my neck for a last glimpse. The white globes shown through the dark leaves surrounding the terrace. 

(original version June 27, 2016)

Photo Eric De Sena, 2016