Seven is already mixing up his first drink of the night as “Kung Fu Fighting” bumps from the stereo in the background. At the Caffé del Corso, after topping off his house special, “Cocktail de Corso,” with a perfect strawberry Seven extends a wink and his tattooed arm as he casually slides the drink down the slick bar. The black Roman numeral numbers XII XII that cover his forearm stand for his birthday, Dec. 12, 1980, and seem to match his tar-black hair and shirt. He’s not just the bartender with muscular arms and a beaming smile that everyone in town knows and loves; at 25 he’s one of Cagli’s young entrepreneurs. He owns the caffé where he’s serving up drinks. “It’s been the dream of my life to open a bar,” he says.

Two hours later at 9 p.m., regular patrons saunter into Caffé del Corso and sit scattered about the bar and white round tables, saying hello to Seven on their way in. Everyone here knows him as Seven “A man from Rome gave me the name when I was 10 years old, and now hardly anyone knows me as Gian Luca,” he says. Cagliesi say he was given the name because he’s the seventh of seven kids, only adding to his somewhat mysterious charm.
Seven towers over the crowd. At 6 feet 2 inches, he’s nearly impossible to miss. The cheerful buzz of happy customers fills the air as Seven stands with crossed arms and dancing eyes observing the scene. A Cagliesi half walks, half bounces into the bar, and Seven immediately notices the familiar face. He playfully points at his customer, tells a joke, and pours a beer in one fluid motion.

This welcoming atmosphere is what Caffé del Corso is all about. It may be the food, or perhaps there’s something in the drinks. But the bar’s popularity only continues to grow. Seven knows how important his place is to Cagli,
“Here people in town come to know each other,” he says while his eyebrow ring arches towards the sky in a matter-of-fact expression.

Seven maintains that his place is more than one of Cagli’s busiest social hubs. He says that Caffé del Corso is breathing new life into the town.

By 10:30 p.m., Debora bounces in from the caffé side to see what’s happening in Seven’s domain. Although it’s Seven who owns the business, his sister Debora is the one who runs the show on the caffé side. His brother Eddie, a local police officer, is there to pitch in, too. But right now, it’s all Seven all the time. He aims to please and loves to entertain. Bottles flip through the air as he lets out a hearty laugh and easily catches a spinning vodka bottle behind his back. After each drink is mixed, the customer gets a smile, a wink and maybe even a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

It would seem as though Seven has been doing his routine for years, but he only bought the business in May. Before that, Seven was a bouncer at the local disco, Masai. Since the switch from doorman to owner of Caffé del Corso, he’s taught himself everything he knows out of sheer determination.

By midnight customers wave wine glasses and cocktails as they animatedly tell stories and jokes to laughing friends across the table. Every chair is full, and patrons stand three deep in front of the bar. But in Seven’s bar, nobody seems to mind. Here it’s simply about living for the moment. The harmony of Caffé del Corso is illuminated in the friendships forming between Cagliesi and U.S. students whole-heartedly attempting to learn each other’s language while enjoying a frothy beer. Cagliesi bend in close to U.S. students with an ear cocked to the side, listening carefully to the words being spoken by their new friends. After a few moments of hesitation the Cagliesi finally recognizes the attempted phrase and raises his glass in celebration, yelling, “Si, si!” Even Seven,who can not speak English, finds a way to welcome his U.S. customers with a huge thumbs-up and a happy “OK!” as they shout hello and order drinks.

By 1 a.m. arms flail and bodies shake as Caffé del Corso’s rather regular late night dance party begins to rage. The stereo continues to blast 1970s music with a little salsa and Black Eyed Peas mixed in. Patrons can barely squeeze their way through the packed bar, but that doesn’t stop the enthusiastic dancers from feeling the beat. Sweaty customers jump up and down shouting song lyrics and carefully balancing their teetering drinks. With heads bobbing and mouths wide open, this energetic crowd shows no signs of slowing down. Here is a place where Cagliesi and U.S. students alike come to laugh and dance without any restrictions. Maybe it’s the natural ambiance that makes patrons feel at home, or maybe it’s that Seven doesn’t mind hoping up on his own bar to give a dynamic performance of “The Final Countdown.” Whatever it is, Seven’s knack for living life has now thoroughly flooded the bar.
“I wake up every morning happy,” he says

Story by Alli James
Photos by Katherine Harrington
Video by Elizabeth Samolis
Web Design by Lauren O'Connell

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