Talking With Stangers in Cafes

…is totally safe. Trust me, I have been talking to strangers since I have been able to speak my first word (Beyonce), and I haven’t been kidnapped once. I don’t understand what all the hubbity bubbity is about. They have great advice, they’re all smiles, and are just trying to enjoy their half-caf on the rocks like the rest of the city folk.

Yesterday I talked with a nice man named Ted from Brooklyn. He was maybe between 35-79 years old (i’m not great with ages), and he gave me a good lesson on why the prices of houses have been going up, and that everyone in Marin County is yuppy scum. Thanks Ted!

I also ran into a nice old Iranian man, who came to USA to get a nice warm slice of the American pie. He asked me, after buying me coffee, if I could teach him English. Hmm, moderately creepy. I can’t even speak the English well me myself. Well, I said “SURE OF COURSE”, but no, I don’t want. Welcome to America old friend!

There’s a guy that sits by the window and creates postcards. His name is Leo, and he is the best postcard maker this side of California. While sitting down intensely drawing a restaurant on the side of a highway, an old friend of his saunters into the cafe. He says to Leo, “Hey! Michelangelo! How’s it going?!”, to which Leo responded, rather aggressively, “How come you never get my name correct?! My name is LEO! Not Michelangelo!”. I don’t think he understood the compliment his friend was giving.

I highly encourage you to sit at a cafe that’s close to your job or home or the box you live out of on mission street, and just watch. I love love love it.