Funny thing, that name. I am now sitting in the metro station, finishing my writing, because the café closed. I was more or less forced out onto the street when I had another hour and a half or so to write. I was there, in the café, minding my own business, writing away, and then I looked up and all the other chairs in the place were now standing on top of their respective tables. I then made the mistake of asking the man there if it was closed and elicited a response of the type "but of course, how could it be otherwise?" I should have known something was up when I noticed him earlier picking up the ashtrays off of all the tables. Probably to clean them, I thought at the time. I wonder how much longer he would have let me sit there and write if I hadn't spoken up. Oh well, too late now. I guess some people close up shop whenever they feel like it. Maybe he had to go vote or something.