Well, yes, to deny that I had much time, so to speak, free. But it's not anything I have read and read widely, and the site that hosted my evenings entertainment has always been my coffee, the Blue.
The Blue, as Andrew said, this is the place where we say, "Let Puga house for coffee." And yes, I became like a second house where I live, where I meet and talk with plenty of characters who each day pass by.
They are all, first there is the famous Cesar, is a body that wanders all day with really severe mental disorders, provided with a scar on his forehead and looking for someone to invite him a cigar, I bought some cd burning (that the truth would have been like openingPandora's box to hear it), or just distracted. There is also a dog trainer, lawyers, a couple of Italian friends, etc. Interestingly
started today my annual reading of the book "The Truce" by Mario Benedetti, has something that I love that book, I read many novels but this is something in particular that catches my attention and, in turn, is so similar to one I read called "Trífero" by Ray Liotta. Pro
one side Santomé The Truce is Martin, a widower in his 50 years, life still ahead, and family conflict. On the other hand, is Trífero widower in his 50 years, life still ahead, and family conflict ... I know it could be the same story but with bound distint, but it is not.
What I find funny is that in the two stories you realize that the world remains the same, the same struggles, same duties, leisure comes from the same roots, and I ask myself the same from them when it happens life.
But to emphasize and describe the reason for these books, I need to comment on two characters who come to my coffee every day: The Italian and the man of chess. Nicknames are a little strange, I know I have names but I prefer to describe them here as well. THE man
chess set me more at Santomé, quiet, thin and lens, always with a bestselling book and when I got tired of what they read others, opt more for something less earthly philosophybishops attacked and were protected by their pawns frightened face, the horses moved with grace, ate a tower and went to play the plain black and white pictures, the queen went shopping and returned with an entourage of Towers to their feet (and no, not entirely palace), so I licked my sure victory. It was not.
On the other hand, my good friend, Italian, with whom I can talk about the immortality of espresso to sociology, marketing, etc.. For me, it's like Trífero, quitémosle what is similar widower, traveling the world, making all possible trades, happy, medium height with a mustache and cheerful and my chess master, always with an espresso or American (because Italians most American coffee is a beverage
