I’m sitting outside the Cafecera
on Republicii having my late morning Americano. A bunch of guys – massive, built
like replicant robots – park up at the far end. They are eating garish green
ice-creams, which they’ve bought from somewhere else. They aren’t buying
anything here.
The waitress comes striding
out of the Cafecera like a Nakajima Type 4 surface to surface missile. WHOOSH!
She is incredibly tall with a feline face, olive skin, long black hair in a
ponytail and eyeliner. Skinny jeans, trainers. She carries herself like a
gymnast. Another anime-tiger girl.
A terrific argument ensues. This
is my territory. So buy something or leave. The replicant threatens to hit
Tiger Girl but she isn't backing down. She shouts at him, standing her ground. Go,
girl. It is the replicant and his friends who eventually walk away. They take their atomic coloured ice-creams with them.
Half an hour after they've
left, Tiger Girl is still striding around outide the cafe, angrily talking to herself and
furiously wiping down the tables. Sometimes she stops and stares down
Republicii as if daring the replicant to come back for another fight.
Go, Tiger Girl.
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