the new york bagel café.

This café was in Edmonton. It had the best soup; sour dill pickle.

My roommate back then worked there. She treated customers poorly because she thought she was pretty enough to get away with it. I am sad to say that she was right, and it annoyed me. But she was nice enough to me.

The entire staff communicated in polish. They were almost always women, and always looked interesting. I tried not to stare too often.

It was the smallest café possible. I often pretended to read something while listening to other people's conversations. I practiced listening a lot more back then, and it was hard to ignore anyone's conversation anyway.

One day the café burnt down.


The new age bookstore next door also burnt down. The psychic on staff didn't warn anyone.