It was the heart of summer and the roadside cafés in Paris were brimming with patrons. Enjoying their cup of coffee and watching the world go by. It has been five years since the boy first stepped into the life of being a Parisian. During that time, he had prided himself as a go-to guy for all coffee and café related stuffs within his arrondissement. He has tried and tasted the various coffees at the numerous cafés that dotted the area that he stayed and worked in. There were cafés that were suitable for afternoon coffee because of their sandwiches, cafés where you could get an early-morning pick-me-up, he knew it all.
So it came as a surprise when he found a new café opening just two blocks away from where he worked. The place was a prime area but when he tasted the previous owner’s coffee, he was put off by the taste. And so it proved to be correct, that franchise lasted all of three months before closing shop. Now a new proprietor had taken over. Maybe this time it would work, the boy thought to himself.
It took him two days before having the luxury of visiting this new café. The décor was unpretentious, typical of all Parisian café but it was the name that caught his eye, just a simple Café. Now this was surprising as most new coffee shops would rather have a catchy name in order to place itself right in the mind of the people, but the present shop owner went for the mundane, Café. He went in and took a sit by the counter. It was his favourite spot whenever he went to a new place. The counter will give him a view of how the barista prepares the coffee and it is also a spot where he could chat up with strangers while at the same time, observe the rest of the patrons. He liked observing and making mental notes. Today, he took up seat at the counter right in front of the barista, a girl, who incidentally was the owner of the new shop.
“Un café s’il vous plait,” he made an order.