Opposite me in Britanico a man sits, tapping his fingers against the table while assorted persons wander in and out of the café selling pens, socks, jewelry, and religious pendants.
Later, a young African man with his dark sales case containing necklaces, rings, and watches enters through the corner doorway and walks directly towards the elderly woman sitting to my left. She has too much rouge on her cheeks. The African leans over and greets her with a kiss.
A regular customer of his, I assume, but today, after reviewing the merchandise in the case lined with red velvet, she buys nothing.
The African approaches me with a smile.