The bartender has a short tie that only reaches halfway down his shirt. Perhaps it is meant to be worn with a vest or sweater, but the vest or sweater is noticeably missing. The waiter has a vest, so I can't tell if his tie is full-length or not, though the top of it looks bigger than the bartender's tie.

The ice cream menu was standing on my table, and I moved it over to the next. No ice cream today. My espresso cup says "Le Cerf" with a font and border reminiscent of an Old West saloon. This place is nothing like a saloon. Everything has a slightly pink tint from the neon tube running around the ceiling. Hanging above the tables are upside-down bowl-shaped lights, each with black, red, and yellow smudges on the outside and fringe hanging down from the rim.

The ashtray is green, plastic, Carlsberg, curved triangular in shape. The sugar was white, St. Louis, straight cubed in shape. The tables are square, with dark wood edges and pinkish stoney middles. Or maybe that's still the glow of the neon. Not the most aesthetically pleasing place I've been in, to be sure.