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Caffe Minnie’s is the place where people go to eat at odd hours. Each dish has a pile of fried potatoes scattered over one side of the plate, and all of their food pretty much tastes just like those potatoes. Though, more than one person has reported that the tomato soup is excellent.

My sleep patterns got all out of whack after a long nap on Wednesday. I had a night of tossing & turning, reading, and pacing around, so I gave in and headed out for a bite at around six. I ordered an omellete and a cup of Darjeeling; and settled in to read the Stranger. The food arrived – and I worked through the heavy omelette, and picked through the dry potatoes. That was just about right.

They serve a small scone with breakfast and it’s a pretty nice piece of work. Mine had a single currant right in the center.

The food doesn’t matter, I sat there and watched Broadway. The clouds hung over us, foreshadowing the coming day of uninteresting weather. No one walked by the window. Aside from the deliverers of the newspapers, who were long gone by now, there were few signs of life.

I finished a second cup of tea and headed back home. Walking back up Broadway, I saw the first signs of commerce – brief glimpses of slow movement in a few shops. The Gap girls folding t-shirts. The old guy cleaning up at Dick’s.

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