Newyorker is a café, with bookish interior and torn couches, nestled one minute away from a very busy street full of anarchist-bohemian bars. It’s a chill café, and it was my go-to place three years ago, where I spent all my free time in. It was nice, quiet, close to home, and had godly awful coffee.
I used to go there almost every day, accompanied with a friend studying med at university. Whenever I finished work I would just meet him at Newyorker and we just work/study our night away. We had daily work/study dates for almost six months, until the pandemic hit, and I kind of pulled a nour on him and ruined our friendship for personal reasons I will not tell you.
It was nice, still is. Today, I met up with him again at Newyorker, and we just rekindled the sparkles we had, and I absolutely enjoyed every second. He’s a medical person, and I am obviously not, and that is literally the core of all of our conversations, him calling the heart some shit like myocardium and me telling him that ice cream is probably injected with a deadly bacteria that will make us grow a third leg.
And we just laugh. He makes fun of me crying for absolutely no reason, and I make fun of him for his failed love life, and it gets as dark as you can imagine.
He tells me the most random stories he faces at the hospital, and I just ramble about God knows what, and I just ask him to tell me about suicidal cases because, lol, they fascinate me.
His car’s name is Lokman, and it’s a transgender car with he/him as pronouns. The car is red, slow, and makes the weirdest noises – but we associated the noise with how vocal and empowered Lokman is in the vehicle trans society. I didn’t have a car then, so Lokman was in charge of roadtrips, from driving to eat delicious shawarma in Aley, to stargazing in a dead end road in Mansourieh.
My friend knew all stars constellations and could tell each’s star’s age, function, and which zodiac sign it falls under. He’s smart like that, he would stay stuff like: “so this place we are in is usually a well known place for horny and high couples. So if you hear any noise different that Lokman’s, please do dismiss and keep focusing on the Gemini star to your upper right.”
It was simple, and I like it. After our little meetup tonight, I drove back home with a smile on my face, blasting Mr. Brightside and feeling refreshed. It was nice to go back to a time where I wasn’t so grownup and did not really understand the world as it is.
Also, interlude, but have I ever told you about my undying love for betrayal songs? Like Jolene? Back to Black? Bust Your Windows? Angel in Disguise? Jelous? Heaven-sent anthems. If you have a song about betrayal, or a person loving
I am feeling young again. I know I am only 24, but the past two years made me feel like I am growing 10 years in a month, like I need to act like I know what I am doing and what I am saying, when I really have trouble walking straight and not dropl over strawberry tartes served at a high level reception.
Enough about me. How about you? Any good/bad things happening with you? Would love to hear them over coffee, or a 50cm long pizza and a dozen eclairs – I’m just PMSing, so please be nice with me.
