There used to be a cafe on Laurel. Two doors down from what was the book store, when it was open. Damn, I miss bookstores. Don’t you?
Café Xeno. I think that’s what it was called. We used to hang out there when I was going to school. We’d study, work on our assignments, and shoot the shit. Miss Regina was the chief cook and bottle washer there – she did everything, she may have even owned the joint in those days, I’m not sure. She was probably 60 years old then and one of the hardest working people I have ever known.
We definitely took advantage of her hospitality. She charged a dime for a coffee. We’d take up her seats, and sit for hours drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. She knew all our names, greeted us every day with a smile and never complained. I wish I could go back and do something nice for Miss Regina. She was sure nice to us.
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