Evening Coffee

Vigorously trying to cross the tram lines I walked heading to the coffee shop.

- “A cup of espresso macchiato please", I asked the waitress kindly.
- "Espresso What?”
- “Espresso macchiato, you Simply make the usual espresso and add some…. forget about all that, I would like a cup of cappuccino, more foam, less milk if allowed”, I answered briefly.
The waitress Looked at me and muttered something…. I replied with a confident smile.

I explored the place looking for an empty place.
- “damn it, the cafe is full”, I thought in inaudible voice .
- “cappuccino, more foam, less milk” the waitress calls me with a tensed tone.
- “Uh, I would also like a piece of dark Brownie, thank you” I ordered, trying to win few more seconds to scan the place again to find an empty seat.
- “Aha there against the large window”.

I do not like to draw attention by standing in the middle of the cafe searching for place to sit.

- “Is anyone sitting here?” I asked kindly again.
- “No, you can sit here,” answered the man sitting next to me.

I took off my winter coat and sat down finally, taking long sigh accompanied with a yawn, you can say it is a change of the alveoli air inside my lungs, dear Socrates.
The cup looked very tasty. this is an almost daily ritual, every evening, like any other normal crazy individual battery in the Matrix, which proudly mastered its charging duty.

Drifted away through the large glass window in front of me, I observed the lights outside and its reflections.
-“I was not here before.”, I thought.

There is that wide white line on the center of the glass window as well.
It was very troublesome to the eye, distracting.

I forgot all that on the moment of the arrival of the tram in front of the cafe, many people were waiting in the station there, and more were coming out of the tram. I think the bustle of the city is right word here.

I could only see either the heads of people or their legs, that unwanted white line obscures the rest.
A young lady came out the tram and passed quietly outside the window… I normally do not like blondes but she was very beautiful.
I wondered if her breasts are big enough … fuck, that accursed line again ..
- “I won’t come here again.”

A thick sound pulled me violently out my thoughts.. “Ah the African man at the other table”
I turned to see that he was talking with his two companions.
The three of them had an aggravated discussion. But I can’t understand the words of the language.
Which language could that be, dear Socrates? oh How moronic of me.. Your first lesson, Listening.

I focused ..I could understand, Kabisa, Mimi and wewe .. “Uh it’s Swahili ..Could it be?”
“Well, dear Socrates, I do not know for sure”.

- “I am a Muslim,” the man says and stands firmly … I think they’re going to start a fight. they exchanged a few words, and then burst laughing … “strange” I thought.

I felt my cellphone vibrating in my pocket .. Uh that’s Mara, my friend.
- “Hello Mara, What’s Up ?”
- “Not much” she answered with her warm french accent..
- “I should tell you that the guys will go to (que pasa), would you like to come?”
- “I would love to, but I can’t, I must complete my essay and deliver it tomorrow to my professor”
- “I have an argument” ..and she continued.. “Your drink will be free this time” … 

- “That’s an argument for me” I replied..“I should keep a sober mind tonight, I have a lot of writing waiting for me”.
- “OK” ..“ The last attempt” she said..“I’ll be there”..and laughed devilishly.
- “hmm, you win this round” I answered with a defeated voice..
- “We will meet after an hour there”, she replied.
- “OK”.

I noticed Socrates gazing at me disappointedly.

- “I realise the futility of it all, my dear, I’m just trying to forget unhappy memories; in my own way”

He is still wondering about the logic behind me going to the pub; and I’m wondering about the logic behind him staying behind those bars.