The sun doesn't seem to be able to make up its mind today, but for the moment, at least, it is shining and I am getting a little of it's warmth through the window. No doubt it will be raining again in ten minutes, though, the way this day has been going.
Every couple of minutes or so there is a rallying cry coming from either the pinball machine or the video game here. It sounds like a crowd or mob for a few seconds, and before I figured out it wasn't real I kept looking around outside for a disturbance of some sort.
Outside are the aerial tracks of the metro and on a regular basis an emergency vehicle passes by on the street, sirens blazing. A big green street cleaning truck came through a little while ago, and I watched as its clever whirling brush whipped trash out of the gutter to be sucked up into the truck's belly. Ingenious, really, but not very practical for places with a significant number of cars parked on the street. I guess that's where the green men with brooms come in.
My coffee came with a packet of three sugar cubes, and I deposited them within, after first dangling them one by one on the surface and watching them turn brown. The aluminum ashtray on my small, circular, artificial wood-topped table is dirty and bears the beer brand name "Picon." The cane wicker chairs have brown and white seats and backs.
A small green poop truck goes by, apparently between doggy poop vacuuming duties, for I don't think there would be any in the middle of such a busy street, and it would be hard to suck the stuff up anyway at the rate he was going. And another noisy emergency vehicle passes. And another shout goes up from the pinball game. Just another day at a café on a busy street in the north of Paris.
Copyright © 2002 David Sadegh.
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