"Does there have to be a point?" I asked her.

<sup>"Seems like there should be. It can't just be a series of good times leading to a series of horrible times. I mean, why bother? Everything ends badly."

"That's almost always true. But when you're in love, you realize that there are exceptions to every rule."

"Until it ends," she pointed out. "Badly."

"Anyway, I was just wondering. How about that sandwich?"

"I'll flag down a waiter," she said, waving her arm in the air.

I ignored the fact that she was being rude, considering her perspective. It was one that I understood quite well, but I was surprised that someone who wasn't even old enough to order a beer would be so jaded. I wondered if something had burned her on the whole experience, or if she was just exceptionally analytical of the whole process. Either way, it made me appreciate her more as a person.</sup>

<sup>Janine and I were waiting for her at this posh little cafe around the corner from the park. It was one of those kinds of places that tried really hard to capture the feeling of a European bistro, but failed miserably because it was so obviously an effort on the part of the designers and employees to be some kind of social elite. Nobody admired or fell for it except for the people admiring and falling for it, this little social circle of nobodies who all wanted to be somewhere else. Well, we were there, too, but we both liked coffee.

It was like a funeral, I thought, and everyone had arrived in black clothing, whispering amongst themselves in hushed tones over muted, generic jazz. Strangely, they played language lesson tapes on a loop in the bathrooms, but I was never sure just how many people spent enough time in the bathrooms to actually learn anything.</sup>

Oł est la boulangerie la plus proche?

<sup>"Maybe they have good sandwiches," Janine said, tossing a sugar cube into her mouth.

"I don't think you're supposed to eat those," I remarked.

"Sandwiches? Haven't killed me yet."

"Not what I meant," I said, lighting a cigarette.</sup>