Morning: Ruined.

Life is a mysterious thing and one never knows when it will suddenly pay out like a son-of-a-bitch. So it was that I was sitting in a cafe this morning sipping a large mug of coffee and chewing on a wonderful breakfast that I'd had the temerity to order. I'd been at the glass cabinet minutes before staring dourly at the healthful, bran-filled clumps that were trying desperately to pass themselves off as muffins, when I saw a hastily scrawled sign for half a baguette with butter and preservatives tossed in the back of the case like an after-thought. "Well, I don't know how a right-thinking person could pass up on all this nutritious and bowl cleansing goodness", the store keeper had no doubt thought to himself, "but I suppose we ought to give them some sort of second option which the sensible will no doubt ignore."

I read the sign and had a moment of schoolyard doubt. All sorts of questions raced through my head. Will I appear girly I wondered? Would I look like some sort of Continental wanna-be catching a quick meal before his beret fitting? Is America ready for this sort of thing? Isn't preservatives just a fancy word for jam?

Anyways I ordered it and it was fucking great. I was enjoying this hearty, yes hearty, breakfast when my view was disturbed by a man dressed in a bright red, biking uniform of the lycra variety. The kind that makes a fair attempt at making the human body into a completely streamlined form, but only succeeds in making him look like a total ass. The fact that this exercising idiot was in his fortys didn't improve things at all. I shifted slightly to avert my gaze politely and realized my error. Of course these people travel in packs, I mean the outfit alone merits the protection that only a huge gang can provide. But why, I wondered did it necessitate wondering into my cafe? Luckily I had already finished my breakfast when they started inquiring about each others bikes. I mean what's the point of buying $4000 bicycles if we can't loudly jaw about them with each other in spandex get-ups?

It makes me think my brother-in-law might be correct when he darkly mutters that we should just all move to France.

That and they like to drink at lunch which I am totally down with...
el Jefe