Cool cigar guy is back! This time he has a cool old fashioned pipe, a cool pageboy hat, and a green tablecloth. The cashmere sweater is replaced with a satin vest. I wish I could be as cool as him one day. A girl walk onto the patio, opens the gate carefully so as not to let the dogs out, and sits down carefully. She is missing her right leg from the knee down. She has tattoos all over what is left of the leg. She pulls out a cigarette, the kind that don’t have a filter, and the owner of one of the dogs lights it for her as she is struggling to find her lighter in her bag. An old couple, mid to late 60’s sit and play cards and drink huge mugs of coffee. The wife is in a wheelchair and the husband looks like he is destined for one soon. They watch my stuff as I go grab a waffle and are really sweet. I love old people, even though they remind me of death.
Some guy is filling the cafe with the sound of his phone call. He has an old, scratchy voice. Deep and hoarse. He sounds like a total white-collar proffessional, but when I turn around he is wearing blue jeans,cowboy boots, a black shirt with the arms torn off and has tattoos all over his body, faded through years of sun exposure. Two guys in their late 20’s-early 30’s sit outside smoking out of a tall glass hookah. It sits on the ground and is taller than the table they are sitting at. They pass the mouthpiece back and forth, creating even more clouds than usual out on the patio. I daydream about dragons reclining at a cafe, blowing smoke as they discuss their hoards of gold and jewelry. The guy at the round table in the corner has great legs. He must bike or something because his legs are toned. He taps his feet to the music, his muscles flexing to the beat showing just how toned his legs are.
Some guy is filling the cafe with the sound of his phone call. He has an old, scratchy voice. Deep and hoarse. He sounds like a total white-collar proffessional, but when I turn around he is wearing blue jeans,cowboy boots, a black shirt with the arms torn off and has tattoos all over his body, faded through years of sun exposure. Two guys in their late 20’s-early 30’s sit outside smoking out of a tall glass hookah. It sits on the ground and is taller than the table they are sitting at. They pass the mouthpiece back and forth, creating even more clouds than usual out on the patio. I daydream about dragons reclining at a cafe, blowing smoke as they discuss their hoards of gold and jewelry. The guy at the round table in the corner has great legs. He must bike or something because his legs are toned. He taps his feet to the music, his muscles flexing to the beat showing just how toned his legs are.