Finding a spot where I can become a “regular” has been delightful. I see the same people, we might nod or just silently acknowledge. What I order varies little, yet they do not assume, which I appreciate. The floor is slightly unkempt, flecks of croissant strewn around. Patrons drift in for bread and cheese and occasionally lounge around with coffee and newspaper; I didn’t know people still read them.

I sit for an hour or two if I can peel away that long from work and leave a minute or two before they close at 2pm.

I look forward to being there, again.