Cafeterias are low cost getaways for peaceful retreats
Go to the nearest cafeteria from where you live. Observe.
Nobody will talk to you if you go there–unless they want one of your chairs. They are solving this deviation by putting less chairs to each table.
Cafeterias are getaways for people who feel saturated from the people they know. They change it every time the bartender learns their name. I can see that happen if I keep track of that person several days in a row.
They can’t stay at home because they know the people that are in it.
They can’t stand the bartender recognize them with their eyes.
If they switched cafés, they couldn’t go to all of them. Or back to them: the solitude is too real when they repeat to meet a happy waiter, excited to finally see them again. They are truly relieved, seeing they’re doing ok and a truck has not run over their body somewhere else. The usual? They’d ask. And they would hand the usual to them before their answer had any time.
The cafeteria person has a certain body type due to the lack of exercise. Their legs start becoming flaky. They are very thin and seem very fragile. They just use them for walking which is great, but you do not build a muscle that way. Their legs, yes, remain thin. But their bellies get broader and broader, getting hungrier each time for more loneliness. Not only for the multiple consumptions they have to pay, but for their greed as well. Greed remains them from living.
They are seen as the outcasts from the society but ironically they see society as a large outcast itself. They’d be better off without everyone else. They would love to see themselves alone in the world but there are too many of them. Imagine, then. They would not be able to stand each other–I wouldn’t, myself. So they’d keep visiting cafeterias seeking for solitude because nothing would have changed within them.
They behaved differently when they were still not fed up from everyone. There were times. There were times in which they knew themselves well.
I cleared the last drops of orange juice and made the loudest noise with my straw. A few of them looked up. Annoyed. One stands up and goes to the waiter to ask for another beer. He gets it and sits down again. I look at him, he is not that different from anyone else. He is seeking happiness but he does not get it although he tries with another café au lait. He is buying time. Another one gets up and walks towards the bathroom with all his stuff under his arms. A third, gets up to get all the newspapers and sits down, to read only half of them, but placing her am above the rest.
The waiter starts burning the wooden table finally having reunited all of them. It sets fire quickly and everyone is too lazy to stand up. There’s only wifi inside.
Him, looking me in the eye, smiles.
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