There is an old man sitting in front of me at Diletto (my cafe/office). He is all alone, drinking a glass of red wine and eating chips. Mostly he’s staring out at nothing in particular. Maybe he had a fight with his wife or is in Bogota for a business trip and doesn’t know anyone. Except he’s wearing khakis and one of those safari-tourist jacket-shirts, definitely not Bogota work attire. So maybe he’s foreign. And the fact that he’s alone is a big foreigner indication. I don’t think Colombians are all that fond of doing things alone. I always feel so sad when I see people eating/drinking alone.
And then I remember that I am here alone almost everyday and don’t feel sorry for myself. Well, at least not most of the time. And I would not like it if other people felt sorry for me. But at least I’m doing work. This poor guy doesn’t even have a book or newspaper. I don’t think I’m the kind of person who can go to a restaurant and cafe with no computer, no book and no company. I prefer to do my thinking while moving. I’m not sure if this preference is because of efficiency (exercise and thinking in one) or because the act of doing something physical doesn’t let me concentrate 100% on what I should be thinking about. If you’re sitting still, you really have no choice.
Man, khaki pants has his head in his hand and is looking particularly meloncholy. It’s a very sad scene. An old man with glasses and a white beard sitting in a big leather chair drinking red wine from a gigantic wine goblet.
Good news: His girlfriend just arrived. Now he looks happy. I assume it’s his girlfriend and not his wife because they look happy to see each other. Now it’s just me and the fat, six-foot tall gringo sitting alone.