An afternoon in Salon Schmück. I ordered, and, out of reflex, asked for the password for wifi, even though I knew in this cafe, the wifi was not locked.
"Unfortunately the wifi is not working," answered the waitress apologetically; "do you still want to order?"
"Sure."
Hipster cafe at Kreuzberg, so used to the customers molesting wifi that the waitress would immediately assume that when there's no wifi, no customers would like to stay. And maybe the assumption is valid after all, as I walked in, I was wondering why it was so empty inside-- Salon Schmück has or used to have a reputation of high MacBook density, perhaps only second to the notorious Oberholz.
Here I was, sitting in the empty Salon Schmück, trying to decipher modernist poetry. The metro passed by once a little while, each time I would almost think it was thundering, and that it was going to rain-- pouring rain, gorgeous sun, drizzles, and another five minutes of pouring rain, the weather of Berlin has been rather schizophrenic lately, though I prefer the term capricious.
"Like women during menopause." I described to Mida, my couch surfer from Montreal, as we were stuck in S Bahn Oranienburgerstr, threatened by the sudden pouring rain. (Mida: When did this happen?)
"Or like women during period." added Mida. We were sitting by the Spree near the East Side Gallery. The sky looked almost as if it had two faces. Azure blue on the one side, whereas on the other, thick scary clouds ominously pressing over the tourists walking by the wall.
"Or like women in general," we laughed.
On our way to the metro station, we were again caught up by the tempestuous wind and pouring rain, during which umbrellas almost seemed like useless accessories.
Passersby braved the wind and the rain with the typical Berlin poker face (perhaps looking even scarier with the crankiness enhanced by the weather).
Today is actually a warm afternoon with decent amount of sunshine. The waitress even smiled at me when I walked into the cafe. I hope it's not going to rain.
