Just around the corner from our apartment, a two-minute walk, you'll find a long line of people waiting. The line starts at the door of a nondescript establishment. The sign says Panificio Santa Rita.

Standing in the doorway, blocking it, is a sullen man. He is large and he is disheveled. The people in the line are waiting to get in. They are waiting for this sullen man's nod that indicates they can enter.

If you are a local, or, I suppose, a friend of the man, assuming he is capable of such a relationship, you may be given preference, which of course annoys those who have been in line for ten, fifteen, even thirty minutes. Some of the people in line will at this point abandon the line. A few may spend a moment of their day giving this establishment a poor rating. They have a legitimate complaint, though their one-star ranking will be drowned out by all the five-star rankings.

This line moves fairly quickly, just long enough for your anxiety to build.

Once you are at the head of the line you find yourself engaging with the proprietor, a normal looking fellow, friendly enough, but with an edge. You, however, are nervous, especially if you have not done this before.

(And you cannot, if you are a fan of a certain television show, you absolutely cannot remove from your thoughts a scene in the show where the main characters stand in a similar context, a long line of eager nervous patrons, hoping they do not hear the fateful words from the chef, no soup for you. Or in this case, no focaccia for you.)

You, this man's customer, feel the urge to say something friendly to break the tension, buongiorno works well, which you immediately follow with your request. And your request must be one of two choices, a traditional focaccia for four euros, or a slice of focaccia for one.

You wait, the feeling of eager anticipation is tinged with nervousness that you might have done something to irritate the man. But no, he wraps the focaccia, you pay, preferably in cash, then you say grazie and turn to leave. You should also say buongiorno or buonasera, whatever is appropriate for the time of day, or he will comment on your poor behaviour.

As for us, well, we were successful at acquiring a focaccia, and it was good, especially for the price, but I'd not wait a half hour for it.