I arrived at the airport this morning wondering what I’d be getting for breakfast. Lucky for me, the American Airlines terminal is actually pretty good for food at the Miami International Airport. There are a number of Cuban eateries where you can get local food at decent prices. When I arrived at the area closest to my gate, I noticed a nearly weaving line coming out of one of the eateries, and it ended up being the sole Cuban spot within reasonable walking distance without getting back on the terminal air train. Au Bon Pain, Manchu Wok, you name it — all the other spots didn’t even have one or two people getting food there. But this place had over 15 people in line, waiting for everything from a ham and cheese Cuban sandwich to guava strudels to cafe con leche. I begrudgingly got into the line, which I noticed moved pretty quickly, and ordered my Cuban breakfast sandwich, cafe con leche, and pan de bono. I think I was the only person in line who ordered in English. As I burned my tongue with my cafe con leche, I thought to myself, only in Miami would something like this ever happen, where people would only get into this particular line for food, mostly order in Spanish, and act as though no other places offered food.

I don’t usually have very much time here in Miami to explore since I come for work, but in that moment, I felt very lucky to be able to come here as often as I do and experience things just like this.

After last night’s disappointing meal, I was wondering what we had in store tonight for our second customer dinner in a row. This customer chose a Peruvian place on the exact same block in Doral as last night’s dinner, so clearly in this very new suburb, the “hip” area was really all on one block. Tonight’s customer we were meeting for the very first time. I had no idea what to expect of him other than the two phone calls we’d had, plus the email exchanges that have all been to-the-point.

“Is there anything you don’t eat?” I asked him as we sat down.

“Nope, I’m not picky at all,” he said, clearly eager to start ordering and eating. “I eat and like everything!”

“Do you like spicy food?” my colleague asked. “Can we get the hot ceviche?”

“Ya, I like heat!” the customer responded.

My colleague and I both looked at each other and smiled. We already liked this guy, but now, we just liked him that much more.

It’s always a crap shoot when you’re taking customers out. You can’t be as blunt with them as you can with your own friends or colleagues where you can critique them or make fun of them for their foibles, what they like and don’t like, especially when you are all new to each other. With customers, I’ve heard everything from they don’t eat animals with more than two legs to a deep hatred of mushrooms to they only eat eggs cooked with the eggs and whites together. It’s a relief, especially when you share dishes, when you can order and eat everything you want without walking on egg shells to suggest the next thing to get.

And in the end, tonight’s meal was delicious, a far cry from last night’s.

It was a grueling day of customer trainings onsite here in Miami today, not to mention all the email follow-ups and multiple customer calls I had to take in the afternoon. By the end of the day, I felt exhausted. I had spoken way too much, especially given my throat and mucus issues, and I just wanted to lie down and rest. But what I did have to look forward to before lying down to sleep tonight was dinner at Dragonfly, a Japanese restaurant in Doral, a small suburb of Miami, that a few of my colleagues have raved to me about. They insisted it was some of the best sushi in the Miami area, that I had to come try it at some point when in town for customer visits. So a colleague and I took one of our customers to this restaurant tonight, and I was really excited to have some good fish… until I wasn’t.

The salmon and tuna were mediocre and not particularly melt-in-your-mouth. The cooked unagi was nearly tough, definitely not soft and lush the way it usually should be. And the snow crab roll I ordered tasted like it was crab from out of a can; it was certainly not fresh at all, and it was almost embarrassing. What exactly is all the fuss about this place? The fish did not live up to any of the hype that I’d heard about it. The only redeeming qualities of this meal were the cooked seabass and the charred octopus bowl. Now, I feel like I need to get more sushi to make up for this total disappointment. I was expecting more after such a long and tiring work day.

It’s always funny being on planes and seeing how people act. I am still working on getting over all the mucus build up as a result of my severe cold from the last week, as well as the cough that keeps lingering and occasionally keeps me short of breath (and at times, as I’ve been told today, sounding like I am about to cry). As I’ve been coughing here and there, the person next to me on the plane offered me some cough drops. I declined and told her that it was very thoughtful, but I actually had my own. Then, as the flight attendant is asking what I’d like to drink, I asked for hot water and lemon. The woman sitting next to me smiles and points at my mug. “That’s what my mother always, always drinks, no matter what,” she said. “At the end of a meal, while relaxing on the couch, a couple hours before bed… she always had hot water with lemon. Said it was good for your digestion and relaxation. Mother always knew best.”

She was a really warm, kind person, and seemingly very contemplative on this flight. She occasionally continued to make comments about what I was doing, whether it was my being on my computer or the food I was eating to even the coat I was wearing (which she asked if I had custom made, which I obviously did not). She wasn’t necessarily being intrusive, but she seemed to want some conversation. And given my throat condition and the work I had to get done on this flight, I just couldn’t give it to her.

When I thought about it, she seemed a bit depressed, like she needed some love and attention, and maybe she just wasn’t getting it in her life somehow.