The sun comes out once in a while, but it's a little too cold for short sleeves. The summer seems truly over now. I'm sitting inside the café near the front, and the window doors are open. There is a row of potted plants and metal dividers along the curb, and little round tables with maroon plastic chairs are lined up facing me from across the sidewalk. Directly in front of me is another row of tables and larger green plastic chairs facing the street.

My table is square, fake dark wood. My chair has a metal frame and a wooden seat sporting a brown cushion outlined with silver studs. The black paint on the wood and metal is scratched and chipped. I got a spéculos cookie with my espresso and a maroon tube of powdered sugar. The bill came on a circular yellow plastic plate held down by a hinged Lipton Ice Tea ad.

On the next table is a Ricard ashtray, small blue plastic with a flat yellow ledge encircling the top to support cigarettes. Right now James Brown is singing "Papa's Got A Brand New Bag." Behind me is a "Junkyard" pinball game -- not one of my favorites, though a guy seemed to be doing pretty well on it earlier.