The vibe
I like being aware of the busy tinkle of cups and the emphysemic coffee machine. The staff have that kind of busy high that I remember from working in cafes. It’s a fun energy, a buzz that gives you the ability to remember lots of bits of information while being distracted and chatty and happy. Girl at coffee machine like a many-armed Hindu deity, reaching here, lining up cups, frothing milk there, flirting with the dreadlocky waiter. She’s performing. Makes me feel old.
The view
Sensation
Aftertaste of Hollandaise sauce; uncomfortable contrast with minty nicotine lozenge.
Gospelly R&B playing low enough to hear but not have to listen. Conducive-to-thinking music
Thought feed
Am relieved that my embarrassing text message alert can’t be heard over the buzz of the cafe. Must change that. Always distracted from changing it by the text message it heralds. And so the cycle continues.
Guy at next table reading Herald-Sun. Front page headline ‘CHOPPED UP IN BATH’ disgusts me. Why do I read so many crime novels then?
Rim of table a little uncomfortable on the undersides of my forearms as I type.
Very at ease sitting in the corner. Nothing happening behind me. I learned this technique from spy novels, now part of my personal tradecraft repertoire.
Traffic slow outside – public holiday. Traffic is the name of the cafe I’m in. Also slow. When a tram goes by the whole street shakes a bit, it’s quite an event.
Haven’t had a shower this morning. Slightly scungy skin. Dirty air.
I want to sit here every day like this. Right now.
