The Café

What a nice night.

The café was calm and cozy as usual. People bustled outside, but it didn't really bother the few people hiding on the other side of the windows. The outside world was hurried, tense, no time to think. If you went out there, you could feel it in the air, the wind cut through you, angry that you were in it's way. People looked down and went without stopping. They talked on phones, not losing those minutes in transit, they went on roller blades or bicycles, killing calories while transiting.

The bell on the café door announces another surviver. 'Hey there, we know it's tough beyond those walls, take a seat, enjoy the jazz, relax'. The coat comes off and a smile warms across their face. How nice, I never saw this place before.

There's people in the back but they're hard to see. There's never too many people in the café, people are going to fast to notice its charms. But we're happy with it like that. Imagine this place full of people, people like them? Tut, tut, that would defeat the point. There's Rita the waitress, she's so cool, she's got problems with her boyfriend but we help her out, sometimes it's nice just to talk it out. And Johnny, where would we be without Johnny? They joke that they bought him with the café, it was part of the lease. He's been part of this café in nearly every respect. Customer, Waiter, Musician, Poet, without him, it just wouldn't be the same.

And the coffee, mmm, the coffee. Nicer here than anywhere, I swear to you. But I'm probably biased, I'm probably influenced by the surroundings. This café is never bright, regardless what's going on outside. It's like stepping into another world, sounds are dulled, lights don't interfere so much, when you walk in, everything just becomes more relaxed. Take a window seat, watch the passers by, it's like they're a movie. Rush, rush, chat, shop, laugh. None of that here, smooth talking, calm jazz, a quiet chuckle, that's all you need, all that stuff outside isn't worth it.

Well, my coffee's up and what a pity. I get my coat back on, I feel cold already, I smile my last one to Rita as I go out. 'See you next time Richie'. If I survive, I hope so.