I arrive in Athens, take the Metro to the station by my hostel.
Metro is 10 Euros from the airport.
Hostel is 13 Euros per night, including sheets, blanket, and towel.
At night, the street vendors are still out and the traffic is heavy.
Motorcyclists in a hurry drive on the pedestrian walks.
I walk down narrow streets, dark, absent of street lamps.
I stumble across a couple kissing in the shadows.
The woman sees me and waves with her fingers while she’s kissing.
The man doesn’t notice.
The restaurant patios are full, but I find a seat inside one of them.
Wooden floors, checkered table cloths, friendly, all-male staff.
Souvlaki spits turn slowly behind the chef.
I order a large Amstel beer.
Except for the words “Amstel Beer”, all other words on the bottle are in Greek.
I overhear just as many conversations in English as I do in Greek.
A man sits at the next table and I see him remove his wedding band and put it in his pocket.
It’s been twenty minutes, but I nurse my beer.
I want to see who shows up to meet him.
