Today I'm going to deviate from my column by letting you into the world of our company, just to give you an insight into how we work and how much we love doing it.
The day in question, the day I accompanied my father, was a little different than usual, but certainly the constant elements were complemented by the more pleasant and satisfying elements of our professional life.
For starters, 7:30 a.m. departure, not one of the most early mornings. I'll spare you the 8 a.m. beltway traffic and the 9 a.m. city bottleneck and go straight to deliveries. Just to warm up, a couple of boxes at Virgin in Corso Como, then detour to Isola for breakfast at Blu, where we leave the vehicle in the crosswalk; not a long way, although in Milan it could take half an hour even to make only a hundred meters between traffic lights, before arriving at the brand new Ditirambo (third day of opening), with an eye on the double-parked van. You then take the Central Station route to head to the trendy Metropolis. A sprint to the Scaletta di Porta Genova, then off again, toward the center, to take only a couple of things to the Trussardi Café in Piazza della Scala, plus an excuse to stretch our legs and reach Piazza Duomo, or rather, the ATM point because we at Rg don't miss a thing, not even the electronic parking meter and limited traffic zone permits.
You'll say 'Not a bad day!' and I'll reply 'Ah no dear, at this point it's eleven-thirty and we detour to via Tortona, destination Superbar!'
So at a quarter to noon we're already at the entrance unloading, we lock ourselves in and don't get out of there until eight o'clock at night! (Small parenthesis, I will talk about the Superbar tomorrow in a new article, deserving a whole one just for itself.)
At this point we are tired as tired can be and choose a nice little restaurant, which of course we provide, to have dinner and relax. The area is that of Viale Piave and the very kind owner of the place, which unfortunately I cannot mention, pampers and spoils us not only with very tender meat, tasty and cooked to the superfine point but also with unsolicited and heavenly rosemary fries, small and crispy. We leave satiated and slightly refreshed. To really end this day, however, one more thing is needed: a visit to our incredible Dario's and the very nice Eddy. My dad admits that 'You don't go to Dario's to drink, you go to experience a thrill,' so we luckily manage to find no line at the entrance (the timing is perfect), and a smiling Eddy greets us by hugging us as we take a seat at the counter, and I, as always, while dad and Dario chat, just look around, intrigued, each time as if it were the first because each time I discover something new that fascinates me. You walk in, and you feel like you're in a different, amazing world.... But I will talk about this amazing experience another time, because a few lines would not be enough.
We finally manage to get out of this city that has seen my father pass back and forth every day for thirty years now. We arrive home that it is eleven o'clock in the evening, a day like any other, but in reality we take with us as we enter the door something new, the feelings of the people we have been working with for years or a few days and the satisfaction that serving them and putting ourselves at their disposal when they need us most gives us.
See you tomorrow dear readers, with my stinging assessment of the last day of this much talked about Superbar.
