Cafe II

The door's closed today as the weather is less hospitable than yesterday. The spirit of the place is far more exhuberant due to the dialogues of four people discussing sex, prostitution, and the Norman influences on English in its evolution towards its modern form.

Two said people have left and the boistrous atmosphere isn't. Now it appears that the remainding two are leaving.

The noise and mayhem of a few minutes ago are now quite gone. Most of that conversation was certainly interesting but not captured.

The entrance to the establishment is cut into the corner of the building, making the rooms seem larger at first. Facing the main drag (and to the left as you enter) is a row of bar stool arrangements split by faux stucco structural supports. The centre support and the bars themselves are skewed. The bars are elongated triagles pointing to the right with quarter-inch thick sheets of metel bifurcating them; same shape, pointing down.

A nasty laud clanging of metel and maybe ceramic just crashed in the "kitchen" just behind the counter.

Returning to the bar-stools: they are apolstered with backs; not wholely uncomfortable.

A slightly mussed waiter/busboy just popped in wearing a slightly puffy black hat, white shirt (untucked and well used), black apron, and pants. He evidently knows the establishment well and it seems to know him. It took him moments to rush in, wave hello, grab a paper, and rush out again.

While the place isn't full off people, the turnover is fairly constant and to fast to record.

It looks like one of the boistrous couples popped in agian, the woman using the restroom and the both of them leaving as quickly as the waiter had five minutes ago.

Three people in the cafe now, one hour until closing. All three are at laptop computers- one Apple, one Mocrosoft machine and one Knoppix. It's become suddenly lonely. Correction, there are two women who waked in to order some drink (food is no longer served this late unless you want pastries).

One has a pink croshet hat that covers what apears to be pulled up hair. The rest of her pallet is light blue shirt and crochet purse with dark blue jacket and jeans. Her compatriot wears no hat with lighter coloured blue jeans and what looks to be a reddish brown cordoroy jacket.

This time a man walked into the cafe, talking on his cellphone. What's interesting about him is that his right hand is shaking while holding the phone up to his ear. Perhaps the denim jacket isn't enough to keep out the cold.

There's not much time left until the store closes and the fellows behind the counter are laughing with the fellow with the shaky hands. Correction, a woman has appeared behind the counter wearing a black cap; felt with a two inch brim.

The surfaces in the cafe vary wildly from wall to wall and section to section. Brick stands to the right of the counter with moltled sand coloured tiles behind it, giving the serving area the atmosphere of a bathroom. The walls in the "back" of the store (left of the counter) of colours that look vaguely like the innerds of avacados.

In about a quarter hour, the store closes.