Cheers

I don't want another hot tea.  I don't want another cold peach Lipton.  I don't want Diet Coke.  I  don't want water.  And I don't want wine.  But, I do want a little more time at Les Petites Ecolieres.  That's my neighborhood cafe where they still don't know my name, but they call me La Americana.  And I like that because every cafe should have an Americana.  (Or is that an Americano?)

Anyway, today I really felt like I have a little home away from home.  I've been going there most mornings for the past month or so.  Sometimes I go after work, too.  There's actually not much of a difference in the clientele.  They're drinking wine at 7:00 p.m. and they're drinking wine at 8:00 a.m.  No kidding.  You've got the occasional guy coming in for a cappuccino and you've got the more than occasional guy (and gal) coming in for a glass of wine before work.  Actually, it's probably not before work.  It's probably just before they leave to go to the next bar down the street.

What finally clicked today?  I went in the morning and had hot tea.  That's when I decided I couldn't have another one.  I'm not sure what I'm going to do tomorrow morning.  I'll worry about that later.  Anyway, this evening I had my first private English lesson.  I was coming from a museum and going right past home.  I had an extra 30 minutes.  Should I go up the 110 stairs just to kill a little time, or should I go see Olivier at Les Petites Ecolieres?  Olivier seemed like a better choice.  First I wanted to check to see if he was alone.  If he wasn't, I would have just waved.  I pulled up with my bike and he saw me and he was alone.  I gestured that I'd go lock my bike and I'd be right back and he gestured that I could bring it inside.  Voila!  My home away from home.  A place where I can go kill 30 minutes and bring my bike in?!  Might I remind you I'm in a Parisian cafe?

But still, the problem of the beverage.  I didn't want anything.  Are the guys on Cheers always drinking something, or sometimes do they just stop to say hi?  Then I remembered the cold milk with mint that I'd had at a house in Italy.  Olivier just happened to have the two necessary ingredients (neither of which complement wine very well, so I'm not sure why he has them).  Stir it up with a sexy stirrer and I felt like a real grown-up stopping in my neighborhood cafe for an aperitif.  Yeah, yeah, it was a mint milk.  And it was in a giant tumbler.  Tomorrow I'll ask for a different glass.  But I hope it still comes with the nude lady.  I saw a rainbow of them just like her behind the bar.

And one more thing.  I had to google how to spell Les Petites Ecolieres.  In addition to finding the correct spelling, I think I've found the origin of the cafe's name.  It's a 1980 French porn. It sounds better in French, un film pornographique francais.  And it's my home away from home where I drink milk after school.