Stella on Sunday

One of the most decadent ways to spend a Sunday afternoon must be sitting outside at a bar drinking a beer while you read for pleasure. Who gets to do that? Rich people? Although I felt sort of guilty taking up valuable table space with my used UK copy of "Rabbit is Rich" (which included a French train ticket stub from 1991 tucked between its yellowing pages), that did not stop me from enjoying a Stella or two while L sipped on tea and read her book across from me. Walking inside to use the restroom, I saw other readers enjoying their books and newspapers at the bar, and people lounging at tables snacking on french fries and bar food and sipping on drinks. It felt like a conspiracy of leisure: the lazy afternoon sunlight filtering through the warren of rooms, voices raised in slow-paced laughter and conversation, all of us sharing in the seemingly illicit pleasure of entering a night space and claiming it for the beautiful, unhurried day.