THE RESTAURATION

On Facebook somebody posted a photo of a very dear friend reading the newspaper at the Caffè Trieste this morning. Naturally it awakened memories. I myself used to go there a lot, but unlike him I do not have the ability to tell pretentious artistic type diplomatically but in no uncertain terms where they can shove their uniqueness.

Yes, I can tell them. But either I'm too diplomatic or not diplomatic in the slightest. And some of those "poets" and "philosophers" are remarkably dense. Which makes me glad I am not a woman, because types like that are even more oblivious to women's desire to be left alone, go away, I'm not interested, you're a turd, piss off.

[My apartment mate, a remarkable woman, would tell them bluntly what to do. And, if necessary, damage them. A small slight woman, with proficiency in martial arts, an intense desire to be left  alone, and a really bad case of Asperger's syndrome. Don't mess with ladies on the spectrum. If you know what's good for you. Do you want to live?]

The photo shows a distinguished looking youngish middle-aged chap at a round tile topped table with a cappucino, in the middle distance, reading waht I presume is the San Frncisco Chronicle (probably doing the sudoku and the crossword puzzles), looking content. His spectacles glisten in the morning sunlight drenching the place.

This is not that place.

This shows the front restaurant at Eindhoven Central Station overlooking the 18 September Square, afternoon sunlight streaming in, in Spring or Summer. I have always enjoyed train station coffee shops and restaurants. There's something magical there. And often the food and beverages were quick and excellent. Reason to dawdle, if waiting for a later train.

Also a good place to read the newspapers.


At the rear exit of the station in fall and winter you can buy beignets or frikandel from vans while heading toward the buses. Sheer heaven when it's freezing outside. Dutch beignets (oliebollen) are dusted with confectioners sugar; you'll look like a coke fiend afterwards while boarding the bus. You won't be the only one.

The coffee shops on the platforms used to be filled with high school students and factory workers smoking handrolled dark shag cigarettes with their coffee while waiting for their trains. Pungent! But since Brussels forbade smoking everywhere, that's a thing of the past.
I would imagine that they've all been replaced by vegetarians and anti-vaxxers since then, enjoying delicious soy milk beverages.

From what I hear you can still smoke at on the terraces of cafés in the Netherlands. That's because the inside is clean and tobacco-free, reserved for the non-smokers. Also, empty. Non-smokers.



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