Paris feels like a funny place at times. I went to my four o’clock coffee time this Sunday afternoon, after binge watching late night TV shows on Youtube. (Don’t judge- I also made it to the gym by 10 AM).
I walked ten minutes away to my nearest Starbucks, ordered a Venti Cappuccino (with Skim milk) and a Granola bar (which looked “healthy” enough). My usual barista, a strange, awkward man who uses the informal form when speaking to me (‘tu’, which for some reason annoys me), and always misspells my name in large caps (‘MEGANE’), prepared my coffee while I tried to find a somewhere to set up coffeetime-camp.
I took a seat at the small table by the font window, nearest to the door, after partially cleaning up one table, and then ending up at the one next to it, when the girl who was there before me, left. And, as in a clear glass fishbowl, I watched life happen on the outside, merely as a an undisclosed, civilised, observer.
At ten minutes past four, right on time, the 14 to 16 year old crowd rolled in. And out. And back in again. I guess this is where angst-y teens hang out on Sunday afternoons, I thought. Today, it was a gang of smoking 14 year old girls who dress and act like 25 year olds, and long haired, blue eyed 16 year old boys, who genuinely look 25, un-trustworthly, and drive scooters.
A spanish couple sat at the table next to me. The guy accidentally hit my table and made my sea of cappuccino completely distraught. He politely apologised in french, all while attempting a french accent (‘Pardon‘, #browniepoints).
I scrolled through Man Repeller and Girlboss, as I do everyday. The latter had an article about how a rich Australian guy (and the most of the world), still thinks millenials are spoiled, irresponsible brats who spend all their money on unnecessary things, such as 4$ coffee and 19$ avocado toast, and would never be able to be homeowners because they are so bad at managing their lives responsibly.
Ugh. If you even knew, guy.
Another was about how millenials don’t disconnect, even when they’re on vacations.
A man walks by with a navy blue t-shirt saying “First Die, then Quit” in yellow, army-style stamped letters.
In the mean time, the sixteen year old-long-haired-not-to-be-trusted boy is coming in and out of the coffee shop, with some background bros. He looked like Judd Nelson when he played in The Breakfast Club (except more European). He seemed dark and threatening, until he ordered a vanilla milkshake. (Vanilla Milkshake drinkers are harmless right? Hasn’t it been scientifically proven, yet?)
Three girls did a video on their phone outside next to the coffee shop entrance, singing and moving to a song, completely careless to who could hear or see them. It must be a Snap Chat thing, I thought.
A young woman walked past with a tiny white puppy. (Probably the highlight of my observations).
Two silly American girls came in, and when they got their drinks, were asking the barista where they could find an outlet to plug in their phones. I nearly helped them, because I had very little faith in the barista’s english skills, but their hand gesturing proved to be quite effective.
I left shop in 30 degree weather after going to the toilet, and took the bus to the Champs Elysée for something that proved to be mostly stressful retail therapy. I visited a few stores, and decided to buy online, due to the insane amount of people everywhere and the scorching summer heat.