Change
October 1, 2007
I took leave of a neighborhood coffee haunt, for it was heaving with large student bodies, loud, with little regard for personal space, all push and shuffle and bags spilling personal accouterments on every space of vacant square feet.
For reasons related to several things, I’ve been tetchy as of late, with this exacerbated by inserted thoughts (when pausing long enough for thought) that I was careening into a life not ideal to me. In the process, I have discovered pursuits I am passionate over, and so my thought is that this month will bring with it fresh, intense and welcome possibilities as sunny as the awning I now reside underneath.
Yes, kiddies, I am perched purty outside a Midtown café, study reading, taking a small spanner to tap on the keyboard and sip in the shade, the green, green trees and crawling jewel-toned buds settled against paved ruddy sidewalks. I watch the passersby, and they look back at me.
And there is the consideration of snacking: crepes here or crawfish there, beckoning across the street by signage in front of the Front Porch Pub.
“$3.25 per lb, ALL YOU CAN EAT!”
Pushed inward by the pick up of traffic, the banner is unavoidable to notice. Effective direct marketing, yes, but a blight on the otherwise pleasing scene. And rather misdirecting isn’t it? “All you can eat” brings to mind exactly that, but then camouflaged in teeny print, reads “per lb”.
Tangentially, I wish I had access to a motorcycle today.
I am sipping on iced coffee. Swish beyond words.. Cold, liquid bitter, tastebud contradiction. With Crayola hues abound in late afternoon light, the world is a better place: nicer, calmer, splendiferous. I don’t want to drink another thing today just to allow the bittersweet linger to remain on my tongue.
But now, am rather thirsty.
