It’s very vain and superficial of me, I know,
but it made me feel like someone in an American situation comedy, being a “regular,” having a “usual.”
The next step would have been effortlessly witty badinage, but unfortunately we were still some way away from that.
One of the staff—Mikey—came over with a glass of water.
“Do you want yours now, or are you waiting for Raymond?” he said.
I told him I was expecting Raymond imminently, and Mikey began wiping down the table next to me.
“How’s tricks, anyway?” he asked. “I’m fine,” I said. “It feels like we’re getting toward the last days of summer.”
This was something I had been thinking as I walked to the café,
feeling gentle rays on my face, seeing a few red and gold leaves among the green.
Mikey nodded. “I’m finishing up here at the end of the month,” he said.
“Oh!” I said. “That’s a pity.” Mikey was kind and gentle,
and always brought truffles with the coffees, without being asked or seeking additional payment.
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