cafe at the Marigny - café, une boisson phsycoative

This morning at the Marigny the dust on the tables is quick to alight.  We need rain says the lady at the market.  she is probably correct but this sun is so delectable. The waiter that looks like an owl serves me.  He is gruff.

"En petit crème."  It used to be called café au lait.  Now only tourists say that.

I look on wikipedia for the definition of café and am thrilled by the description.   It is a une boisson psychoactive.   


The waiter takes forever, his bottle-bottom glasses enlarge his eyes on his face and his hair is uncontrollable.  It is hard to say what color it is.  It isn't blond but something like that.  It looks like a dolls hair that has been drug through the sand pit.  It sticks out.  He is skinny and his face has huge dimples.  Big sideburns that are not brune but darker than his hair.


Finally my coffee arrives.