Sitting in the same coffee shop as last time, I see with my little stained eyes no old people. It's winter now, hence all the coats and scarfs, all of them dark.
There are no bright colours saved for this time of the year, not even mine, unfortunately.
There's a new waiter, the late day sun hits is face as petals hit the heads of recently married couples, with grace and sweetness.
Today I'm reading Heir of Fire (Throne of Glass 3) and this is a book who imprints on me a completely different vision of the world.
Hence, I shall observe people differently.
Finishing that sentence and looking up from my computer, I see the old waiter carrying a tray with a single coffee in it.
He was smiling as if feeling utterly complete with his job, but he is not. Who could be? I have worked at a restaurant before and I was miserable the whole time.
Maybe he as a family or a dream motivating him and that smile was him imagining a time when he will not have to work at this rat's ass of a place.
I prefer to believe in that than him merely being dumb enough to enjoy waitering.
Over to my left sits a pack of teenage boys making a buzz every time a pretty girl walks in.
Not many other groups of people have the ability to annoy me to the extent rude teenage boys do.
Why do we keep teaching children that when they grow up the perfect way to be in a civilised society is to behave like animals with no more of a moral compass then their primitive sexual instincts permit?
An old man just came in and sat down on the table right next to mine. He doesn't have a phone or a computer, but a notebook. He is writing.
A writer! And he has a really old looking, beautiful pen. Oh this day.
Portuguese coffee shops are not real coffee shops, everyone just calls them that because almost everyone drinks coffee.
And not the american coffee either. American coffees always look gigantic to us. No! Portuguese coffee is small but strong just like the Portuguese traditional women (inside joke that only I get...).
Anyway, these coffee shops are the center of human interaction, at least the ones that truly count.
Its were families come to snack, where friends meet up for beers and where old people come to read the paper.
That is why I love to come here, or any other coffee shop, they are full of live.
The only other place I love to be, or more correctly put, to pace in, is the big parks where families come all through the weekend.
Here, we have one that's just been renovated and it is always filled with children playing, singing, and mostly smiling.
There are not many things that can put me in a good mood, but a child's smile is always a good bet. They are not rotten and that is comforting. I can't say that about all of the adults that I know.