Endless Summer in Brooklyn
There are places that are flagrantly strangers. Others are subtle; certain sounds, certain lighting, some detail, a certain arrangement. This place in particular, is special because it is almost invisible; this clandestine condition is not premeditated; the place, is truly insignificant.
A glass door barely separates you from the simple counter and the lonely but smiling cashier, displaying an uncomplicated menu. Sandwiches with rare, but fresh ingredients, juices and nothing else. I ordered a smoked BLT by the habit and decided to sit in one of the two chairs available. I felt uncomfortable in the same way you feel uncomfortable eating at a Domino's pizza. Everything seemed out of place, even my flip flops that I did not remove, fooled by the autumn sun.
The sandwich was delicious, and juices were fresh. The music was composed of rhythmic drums and happy guitars that contrasted with the melancholy of people on the street, passing me by with their long coats exaggerated by the wind and the yellowish green of the trees of Autumn, as if I were invisible. I liked the involuntary voyeurism.
I've been coming here for almost two weeks now, because I think it is a magical place. The public solitude of my small private place, makes an imaginary diorama where time does not pass as it does out there. To the merciless wind and the cold that is already beginning to encourage one to come out in the daylight, this little shrine resisting them with music, freshness, a giant window and a powerful spell, reminds us that here, in this small local town of Brooklyn, summer never ends.