He is one of those people who have the talent for making a person feel really welcome. Though the shop is located in the suburbs, in a sparse neighborhood, yet all sorts of people prefer to visit this place owing to its rustic appeal, the social variety it offers, the jovial nature of old Joe and to have a cup of good coffee and a hearty cheese sandwich at a warm and friendly place.
It is early morning and I am here to have breakfast after working long hours on a particularly difficult English assignment. As usual old Joe is sitting behind the counter, placing his chubby hands gently over his generous belly, passing a broad smile to every new visitor. I am rubbing my sleepy eyes, trying to get rid of the fatigue that has overtaken me. Going by the early hours most of the tables are still unoccupied.
An aged couple is occupying the table to the left of me. They must be in their seventies. The husband is slowly munching a cheese sandwich while the wife is looking at him with tender eyes. Both of them are quiet, focusing more on the breakfast. The table in front of me has three young people sitting there, one boy and two girls, all the three in their early twenties, loudly laughing and chuckling as they talk over the breakfast. The table in the ill lit corner is occupied by a tall man with grizzled hair who looks really handsome. He is accompanied by a lady who seems to be a bit over weight, but otherwise cute. Both seem to be engaged in some intimate conversation, totally oblivious of other people in the shop.
The place is gradually warming up with more people walking in. Here come a group of college students, five of them, three gents and two girls, all of them really loud. Being lost in my reveries I am not able to grab much of their conversation except for the bits and pieces like “History”, “Kills’, “missed the class”, “What a bore!”. Perhaps they are talking about the history