In a teeny tiny tiny French cafe in Mile End.
Louis Armstrong is playing. Drinking a black Americano.
The whole place smells like honey and melted butter. Lots of families walking big fluffy dogs and a little girl in pigtails and a black striped dress came in with her Mom and bought a baguette.
Also, two women on vintage bicycles are making out outside the window where I'm sitting.
Love this city.