A pigeon with a deformed foot hopped around a bit outside the window before flying away. Since I've been here, the weather has gone from rain to bright sunshine to cloudy. There are two women (mother and daughter?) sitting outside; the older one is drinking coffee and the other has a red liquid in her glass. The younger woman is doing a euro conversion on her calculator.
A couple was sitting near me earlier. They were from Madrid and the waiter was trying to speak to them in Spanish, but I don't know how successful he was. Farther away two old women sat talking in voices that were startingly loud considering how far away they were.
I have a nicely sized square table with a black and brown stone top and light wood edges. There is a green plastic Heineken ashtray on the table adjacent to mine, and that table has bits of ash on it that didn't make it inside the designated receptacle (or else somehow fell out). My espresso came with two sugar cubes and (surprise!) a spéculos cookie for me to dunk. The little round bill tray has a horseshoe design in the bottom -- it is the same strange horseshoe picture I keep seeing and it has to be some kind of Marlborough mind game or something. The chairs are wooden with thin brown seat cushions.
A full half of the sky is covered with clouds, but the sun happens to be located in the other half and is shining down in full force, warming up my right side.
A waiter is wandering around with a coffee, trying to find the person who ordered it. I assure him that it wasn't me, and a man sitting nearby claims it.
The tables lined along the outside are small and round. There are two groups of three tables flanking the entrance to the café, each group has four shiny silver aluminum chairs. The awning is striped red and yellow. A bald man with red shoes crosses the street. There is a woman walking with him, her arm across his back. She has red pants and not much more hair than he does. Then a clump of elementary school kids rounds the corner. Then a woman walks by, her coat covered with red, white, and blue four-pointed stars. A woman with red pants and red shoes (not to mention a red handkerchief around her neck) crosses the street, just behind her is a pair of men, one of whom thoughtfully drops his empty red Coca-Cola can into the gutter before crossing as well. I hear laughter nearby.
185, rue du Fbg St. Martin
Metro: Château Landon
Phone: 01 46 07 36 57
Sugar: packet of 2 sugar cubes
Bonus: individually wrapped spéculos cookie
Copyright © 2003 David Sadegh.
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