Café Girl: The Tutor

She was tutoring some sort of science, maybe med school. In a near-empty La Pain Quotidien on a Saturday evening, I was in my normal spot at the center, farm table.  She sat right in front of me. There’s a rule I came up with over the years. If someone sits next to you, talk to them.

She was soon joined by the student who, more classic in her beauty, could not touch her. Elegant, sophisticated yet simple, could not take your eyes off of her. That is a Café Girl.

I think our eyes met a good twelve times.

And then . . . she left.

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