New Art Cafe

No one is in the limelight at Starbucks anymore. It's an out-of-date fashion. A few years ago, hipsters were keen to order a latte and look around Shi ran, imagining themselves as the most fashion urban white-collar workers in American movies. Since Starbucks drove all the way to the urban-rural junction, the middle-aged lady also began to occupy a corner, talking about family affairs with a star ice music, as if it didn't make much sense to sit in again. The last time I went to Starbucks, it was still crowded, and the counter clerk smiled as before and asked casually, "is Miss shopping today?" Similar to "have you eaten" greetings, they never need an answer, they are like coffee, they maintain the same taste around the world all year round, just taste it, have a few more cups, and are as dull as American history.

Hipsters in the city have stepped into different special cafes. They are usually opened in downtown secluded places, the facade is very small, easy to miss, and will never open near subway entrances or shopping malls. You have never heard its name in a newspaper or in an advertisement. Like the soul of a literary youth, it is only mentioned in people's mouth, such as: there is a smart cafe on so-and-so Road with three cats. Or I like so-and-so, really sweet, very chic.

My friends and I always wear into such a cafe on a fine afternoon. The appearance of the waiter is more or less reminiscent of an idol play, with several timeless retro posters hanging on the wall and a small mood phrase behind each coffee or cake on the menu. The people in the whole cafe whispered, and there was no talk of tens of millions of funds and millions of gains from Starbucks. What could cause a stir was perhaps a big lazy cat that looked as if no one was there. In addition, even if a star was put in, everyone had to restrain their excitement and behave as usual.

One day, after having dinner with my cousin, she and her one-year-old baby passed by an elegant cafe and decided to go in. At the same time, there were two young fresh women entering the door. Xiaoqing was originally reserved for fully developed girls, but recently this trend has become more and more popular, and Chinese girls have always believed that they can't see their age on their faces, and they still wear lace skirts when they are more than two feet around their waistline in their thirties. The two women shouted, and one pointed to the flowers and plants and old furniture at the entrance and said excitedly, YUKI, look at this, wow, so retro pastoral, wow, really like an European street cafe. Another woman responded quickly: yes, every time I walk in here, I feel very happy. European classical, of course, is better than American fast food.

When I went in again, it was sure enough that there was a fresh crowd inside, and everyone was smiling and chatting. Compared with the meticulous, serious and indifferent urban faces of the petty bourgeoisie in the past, people seemed to open their hearts again and began to pile up the purest smiles. About Xiao Qingxin, it began with Chen Yizhen, a rough boyfriend once disdained to say: false virgins. If you think about it, sure enough, the costumes, moods and costumes that should only appear on the girls are now the same, returning to adults, as if Adam and Eve had returned to the Garden of Eden hand in hand. This cafe is their Garden of Eden, and they can't help but highlight all their innocence. When you see a flower, boast: Ah, what a beautiful flower. When I saw the cheesecake served by the waiter, I sighed: wow, it looks delicious. When you see a cat, you must make a fuss: Oh, what a lovely cat.

I saw a woman run forward and began to talk to the cat: Mimi, I haven't come in the last few days, are you good? The fat cat raised its eyelids and continued to doze off without a reaction. The woman doesn't give up and continues to talk to the cat. Compared with the fresh and fresh people's attitude towards cats, my cousin, who has been unwilling to settle down and stumbled around, was given the cold shoulder. Like Zhang ailing, they all adopt an awe-inspiring attitude towards their children. When he saw a child rushing up, he simply tried to avoid it and whispered: whose child is it? When it comes to respect and fear, I'm afraid the latter is more. In fact, there are no children in the Garden of Eden. Children represent the cruelty of realism.

Then a waiter brought in a bottle of flowers, and four or five women gathered around them, chattering: Oh, what kind of flowers are these? they are so beautiful. I glanced coldly at the big bouquet of flowers and finally left with my cousin holding the baby.

Where can there be rape flowers in Europe? These fresh er immersed in classicism naturally do not know each other.

China Coffee Trading Network: www.gafei.com