Thursday, April 19, 2018 10:40 PM

Today, as Independence Day continues, almost everything is closed. I end up at one of the few open cafes, the one that is also open on the Sabbath. The crowd is sparse. A woman sitting in front of me has a tattoo of a tape cassette. Another whom I see in three-quarter view wears a white t-shirt with black lettering. I read "merc" and wonder what the remaining letter might be: y? i? k? h? e? Toward the back, a man I had seen being escorted out of another place sits with a glass of water. His tidy suit jacket is buttoned over a dense mat of curly grey hair on his chest and belly. He moves his lips and gestures theatrically, but I don't hear any sound or see to whom he is speaking. My panini (called simply "toast" here) costs some six times as much as where I usually get them, and twice as much as the hummus plate that I craved would have cost across the square. I chalk the cost up to inexperience and try to enjoy what I have.