the big city

this afternoon, while eating my cuban-style corn on the cob and sipping my delicious mojito, i struck up a conversation with the kind girl who was seating people at cafe habana. when a couple walked in the door, susan told them it would be a 15 minute wait for a table; but i noticed two small adjacent tables at the front of the restaurant that were already empty, waiting for hungry lunch goers. as she turned away from the waitng couple, i asked about the vacant seats.

"those are set for someone who will soon arrive" susan said softly. with a mischievious look, i asked what i had to do to be on the small eatery's "vip guest list."

"if you want to come in every evening from midnight until 8am to clean floors, you can have that table" was her response. with a smile and gleam in her eye, she recounted to me the reason for the reserved table. juan works the overnight cleaning shift mopping and scrubbing, and his wife has just arrived from columbia. juan and his wife have not been able to live together for the last ten years, but she has finally come to the states. this is a celebration for them.

we commented on how they must have much to catch up on, so that explains why juan and his wife were late. after all, it had been ten years.

every time i come to new york, i always have to stop for a visit at the cozy cuban corner nestled in the nolita neighborhood. i knew i loved the food, but i always suspected it is the people who work and frequent the joint that warrant the many visits. despite the absent smiles on the sidewalks and trains of gritty city that surround the cafe, i now know its true.