Cafe Podere

Hey guys, so I wrote this short story and it's inspired by "A clean, well-lighted place.". This also takes place in a cafe and people who stay out at night, but I'm not trying to address insomnia. I'm addressing an important life lesson. See if you can figure it out.



"Cafe Podere, open from 10 to however long you stay!" The waiter muttered bitterly. He sat behind the counter in a horrible mood. It was 2 AM and his dog was probably going crazy. The cafe really did stay open until the last customer left, but unfortunately this man never left until early morning. Around 4 or 5. That is why the waiter hated this shift. He normally worked opening shifts, but he covered for his long time friend. Oh how he regretted it now! The last customer was a young man. He simply sat there and stared at all the passing people. However, the people are long gone now and all of the lights of the buildings near the cafe are out. They are all closed just as the cafe should be by now. The waiter continued to sit and wait. There were no more jobs to keep him busy for he had done them all. The young man looked at him, "Another?"
The waiter sighed and picked up the coffee pot to bring it to him. Putting on a fake smile he said to the man, "Ah! Here we are!" He saw his empty plate, "Can I clear that for you?"
The man shook his head, "No, but may I get some more?" The waiter faked another smile, "Sure, no problem sir." He took the delicate cake plate and put another slice of cherry pie on it. He saw the man and thought about how he consumed this much pie and was still in great shape. His friend had warned the waiter of this man who stayed through all hours of the night eating pie and drinking coffee. He scowled, but then fixed his face to give the man his pie, "Here you go." The man just nodded. Slowly and somberly. The waiter checked his watch: 1:37. He had time to kill so he sat across the way from the man, "I've got a dog at home right now. He probably misses me as much as I miss him. I know it's a dog, but he's my baby."
He looked at the waiter quizzically, "I'm sorry to keep you then."
He started to get up to leave, but the waiter stopped him, "It's fine I guess. I'll never work this shift ever again, so one night isn't the worst.".
The man was blunt, "Why are you talking to me? No one talks to me."
"I'm curious. I really am. Wouldn't you rather be at home? In the comfort of where you live."
"Why do you care?" The man fired back, "Why do you need to know?"
"Well, you're in my cafe. If you want me to serve you, don't you think I should be served?"
The waiter smiled as the man still wasn't smiling, "I should serve you cause you've been giving me pie? What do you expect me to serve?" The man thought this was a weird and pointless conversation.
"Information, I just want to now why you stay here all the time. Isn't there a bar a few blocks away?"
"Yes, but this is less...drunk. Besides, I can't get coffee and pie at a bar."
"Why not go home?"
"Why not the cafe?"
The waiter was irritated, with this cloud of confusion.  "Because, some of us enjoy being home, enveloped in a warm blanket."
"And some of us enjoy being here, in a warm cafe."
The waiter nodded and looked out the window next to them. It was an ugly view really. Nothing more than a junky side street that people used as a short cut between blocks. "What's so captivating about this road? It's nothing."
The man finally laughed, "I guess I'll let you know when I finally understand."
The waiter stared, "I guess so."
And with that the man left 60 dollars to pay for his visit and he left. He left earlier than normal, but the waiter stayed. He finished the untouched pie and cleaned the plate. He then went back to staring out the window, desperate to figure out what made it so special. He stayed until the morning came and he watched the people go. He watched this snippet of their lives and was so intrigued. How this little side street kept him throughout the night, he didn't know nor did he care. His friend came in early the morning around 8 o'clock to bake new bread and rolls for the day. He saw the young waiter and said, "Well, look who it is. Don't tell me you're the man that plagues my night!" He laughs and sits "What're you doing here anyway? Didn't he leave already?"
The waiter looked at his hands, and fidgeted. After an uncomfortable silence, he left without a word. He knew why that street was so special.


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