The front window-doors have been opened on this terrific day and there's nothing between me and the fresh air outside. The sky is completely and irrevocably blue; it is as if clouds had never been invented. There are trees all along the streets and everything is wonderful, even the omnipresent noise of traffic.

Though I'm inside the café, I'm sitting underneath an umbrella, a large white one that shades my table and the table next to me, where a man has finished playing with his palm pilot and is now perusing some paper documents of some sort.

My chair is black painted metal with a speckled purple seat cushion. My table is square with brown galaxies or moon craters swirling across the top of it. The ashtray is black plastic with the horseshoe-thing picture and my cup and saucer are white. I was kindly given two sugar cubes in a "St. Louis" packet to make my espresso experience that much sweeter. There is an endless parade of humanity in front of me. Behind me, an entire café sits, but I could care less, the whole beautiful world is in front of me.

NOTE: A few minutes before I was going to leave, the server informed me that I could not sit in the café for four hours with just an espresso, and that I had to order something else. I asked if it was possible to stay for just ten minutes more and she said no. It was the middle of the afternoon, there were plenty of tables available, and I don't know why they considered me undesirable, but let me tell you, it absolutely ruined my day.