This is where I do a lot of writing. I watch Gio flirt with Sam(antha), who clearly likes him. She is pretty popular in the community, being a barista and all. But there's something about the way she smiles when she talks to him that makes it clear.
I once saw her at the Post bike shop. Her wheel was badly out of true, and the dredded dudes rejected her; to fix the wheel wouldn't be worth it.
This is my bohemia, where they will remember the seedlings of post postmodernism, or metamodernism, sprouted. Out of the nine laptop users in the badly named Swallow Cafe (Sam said that there's no chance they'll change the name), seven have Macs; there is some throbbing-beated lo-fi jangly female singing music playing; and the dishwasher whirs soothingly.
If the Halsey stop is the newest edge of gentrification, then Morgantown will soon be Bedford. Once they build those condos that are slated to go up, just north of McKibbin on Bogart, this place is going to be prime real estate. It would be nice to be able to afford to live there by the time they're built.
Bushwick rats. I should get back to reading some classic literature.
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