Personal request: Please click and listen to the link provided as you read this piece :).
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Cafes are conducive to an environment for any foreign soul. The noisy atmosphere, with dim music playing in the background, the sounds of baristas yelling different names off of abstract orders, and the clinking and clanking of dishes and utensils while food is.. propelled, ricocheted, grilled-tossed-shaken-beaten, and prepared for the average passerby. It almost seems like a perfect symphonic lullaby of a life that is constantly moving while you, focused, intently do your own work just to keep up with the hectic tempo of life, the daily grind-ing coffee bean-making progress of life.
Ahh yes, cafes are quite an exquisite environment. One can simply sip on their hot tea or cold drink while they sit placidly contemplating and listening in on a peculiar conversation or meeting across the table, even three chairs back- of two, or even three blameless souls merely exchanging private matters, public stories, and personal dilemmas.
It's almost poetic. The coming and going of rushed, calm, worried, love-stricken, angry, annoyed, mellow, sick, hungry, tired, excited, indecisive strangers-all who have their own reasons why they just so happened to have walked into that very cafe that you are in.
It's really quite beautiful. Everyone has their own story...their own worry...their own train of thought. Some sedately stand in line, arms folded while blindly glaring at the counter with unintentionally wide and owl-like eyes (almost as if they're "dogging" the barista), waiting for their drink, as they get lost in their own music prodded into their earlobes, while they dream off and lose themselves in nostalgia.
That same old man sits in the corner, with the same big eyeglasses that are tied around his neck in case he "misplaces" them, while he is reading his daily newspaper. Students come rushing in, covertly eyeing each other in the process, all eagerly waiting for their orders so they could scurry on to their abandoned studies. Loud blenders and archaic cash registers squeak as the receipt prints because naturally they don't take any credit cards...
Indeed, time spent in a cafe seems to be immortalized...seems to be so serene.
How fitting is that! The Godfather theme song JUST started playing- I kid you not. Oh the irony and tingling feeling of Déjà vu, coincidences, and of plainly perfect moments of serendipity.
Cafes are something else...
Let's get lost together in one.
~ rom is roaming in rome with the romans
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