Mapping & Exploring Rome 2019!

As I finish ordering my bagel, I notice a man behind the farther end of the counter.  He catches my eye because I have no clue what he is trying to do, as he is working with large metal objects in his hands.  When I reach the entrance to the farther end, I realize that he is trying to assemble the coffee machine.  My friends and I take a seat close enough that I can watch him, but far enough away as to not be creepy.  The man who looks to be in his mid-thirties stands at the counter refilling containers of vegetables, wearing a baggy flannel underneath an apron, ragged jeans, and a thick pair of black boots.  Half of the mans face is covered in hair, with a light brown mustache above his upper lip, and a full beard connecting to it.  Country music and chatter fill the large open space when I begin to notice a few piercings in the mans left ear.  This detail piques my curiosity,  and I begin to search his hands for a wedding band, which I cannot manage to find.  I assume that he is not

We make our way down Clinton St. and find ourselves approaching downtown Saratoga.  The midday sun blinds me completely, seeping its way into my dark winter clothing, warming up my rough skin. A truck of different smells hits me the second we turn onto Broadway.  Hints of savory, spicy goodness float through the air, allowing us to instantly know which way to turn.  As we begin to make our way through the sea of bodies, it becomes evident just how many people decided to come to Chowderfest this year.  People left and right continue to push into me, push past me, bringing me a combined sense of annoyance and thankfulness.  I become thankful to have so many warm bodies surround me as the chilly air seeps down the neck of my jacket, sending a tingling sensation from the base of my head down my spine to my lower back.  I get pulled in the direction of whichever chowder stand is closest and bury my head into my friend's shoulder as we wait on line.  The smell of cigarettes surrounds me