… was sitting at a cafe with a friend & approached by a young fan.
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“Will you draw something for me, on this cocktail napkin?” he asked.
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Picasso scribbled a few lines & handed it to the young man saying,
“That will be $1,000,” he said.
“What! But that only took you 4 minutes to draw!”
“No,” said Picasso added, “…that took me forty years.”
..
[ story submitted to BinkNyc by Lisa Duggan ]
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Well, there it is.
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Call us. We’ll do cawfy. If it’s before noon: cappuccino.
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Cawfy Tawk
I never understood espresso shots.
A year ago I was sitting in Kellogg’s Diner and my business partner, Niko, introduced me to his uncle saying: “This is the guy who did 11211 Magazine“.
The man snapped his head at me, smiled and beamed: “Oh, you’re the guy who brought my property up, way beyond my greatest imagination! I have to thank you,”
He had a thick Greek accent and was kind of scruffy looking. He asked: “What are you drinking?”
“Cawfy,” I said, smiling and half-joking, lightly entertained by my own wit.
He ordered some espresso shots and we had great conversation for hours. I learned about the battling days of old Williamsburg | Brooklyn while downing shot after shot of a special, very thick Greek espresso. It was good cawfy.
They only served this particular Greek espresso to family members when they come by. I was so engaged in conversation and never stopped to pay attention to the copious amounts of these single serving, sip shots.
It was delicious, no idea how many I had and felt special after hours of this. I couldn’t stop grinding teeth, stupid things suddenly became hysterical, and the volume of internal voices, now mounting in the dozens, chattered endlessly in increasingly high-pitched shrills of indecipherable speech.
I wanted to jog and then run. It felt exciting like 5 minutes before the ball drops.
I left the restaurant at 2am and called them at 10:30am, sleepless, wanting to know if I would ever fall asleep again.
The rules have since changed. No espresso, ever, coffee in the AM, decaf after noon and evening.
fini.
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