I saw it on Wikipedia and I thought "Cool, I want to go to the Pope Espresso Altar".

I went there, wishing I had practiced any Italian. I tried getting by with Spanish but they weren't buying it. I saw a beautiful woman from my past-- surely that was not her?

I was up next in line, walking down the pock-marked stone, their texture cast dramatically in the warm glow of real candlelight and the scant rays of white sunlight. It felt just like I remembered "Assassins Creed II" looking.

I get to the machine, and... Oh no!

The Pope Espresso Altar was replaced with a fully automated machine, supervised by a bored teen, with the espresso served into soda-lime glasses with faded Starbucks markings.

Think "Six Flags Attendant". The machine poured out espresso at regular intervals. Fuck, I just missed my turn.

I was too late to place my cup underneath, and so I got the next one. I realize I made a faux pas here, as the Pope Starbucks Espresso Machine Attending Teen yelled and gestured at me in Italian -- as did the myriad people behind me.

I left with my partially-filled glass and swiftly exited. The exit had less of a stone-hallway look and more of a carved-cave. I took a sip in the cave. The espresso was not good at all.

Suddenly, I was outside again. The beautiful woman was still there, but I saw her in another light. She wasn't the person who I thought she was.

Fuck, she made eye contact, good thing this crowd is so dense and swiftly moving. "Lo siento," I say to the person I brushed against. Shit, fuck, I spilled my espresso. Oh god, I spilled it on someone. Fuck, I spilled it on their child too.

"Lo siento muchisimo." Oh man, that wasn't mutually intelligible.

I woke up, Cursed, by the Pope Starbucks Espresso Machine Attending Teen