October 4, 2012 in Uncategorized
Paris 1976: You’ve found a quaint cafe off the busy Rue de Napoleon. You find a seat at a marble table for two, you look out the wrought iron detailed windows-the sun gleaming down on the street revealing local bums begging for Sous. It doesn’t bother you. You order a cafe Latte and a pain au chocolat. The serveuse brings it over, you take a sip and close your eyes. You open your eyes and ‘Google’ is open on your laptop, you’ve got a tab open for detailed human anatomy, Gmail, New York City weather, Shakespeare Sonnets and Facebook; what to search now? The sun begins to set, you’ve been here all day. You trade your latte for a glass of wine and you put your laptop away. People begin to file in, gliding straight past you, in your cafe setting, to a winding staircase that leads to the basement. The music gets louder, the lights dim, the crowd keeps coming and you find yourself getting in line to embark upon the journey downstairs. The heavy brick follows you down to reveal the grand archways that line the cavernous quarters. “What is this?” You think to yourself as you see people playing pool, mingling, lounging, and dancing. You take a sip of wine and close your eyes again. When you reopen them you’re in your bed; your clothes still on and makeup staining your pillow. You get up and undress. Out of your pocket, a piece of paper spirals to the floor, you pick it up: Arlo&Esme.