It took me to a place I have yet to be.
There is nothing like finding a place of food intake where you can burrow yourself and ingest the ambience with a big, juicy cheddar cheeseburger.
I found such a place in an Irish Pub. In America, yes, so one can easily argue as to how Irish it really was. The owners, the employees, the customers, all US’ers. But I suppose for the time being, it was my Ireland.
With a great burger. They did about the best job I’ve had anywhere here.
I remember approaching the door, and entering slowly, each time, as if I knew I was leaving my country and entering another. And I would always stop for a moment and look around, as I would find my familiar corner table where no one ever sat, with a window just to my right and a booth that allowed me to sink in a little more than the rest of the dining room setting. It was the first time I can remember ever being at a restaurant and really just wanting to be there. And God seemed to meet me there, sitting across from me. Even beside me.
I was recently reminded of this place, and it will always be that quaint place to me that allowed me to hide away for an hour out of life. I don’t know why it was so special, but it just was. One day I’ll find out.