Saturdays at the coffee place across from the train station. What’s goin’ on, bro?

The talk . . .

Oak Park Newspapers

You know Saturdays are different. No rushing, rushing to catch the Metra and all that. Couples come in for a leisurely coffee, roll or bread, and reading the newspaper. Right next to Jake, for instance, two guys dug into the Trib and Sun-Times just as energetically as you please.

Janitor Emeritus, a regular, came about 8:30, stopping outside to gesticulate first at the window to his buddy with gray hair like Sam Beckett’s but no familiarity with the French language that Jake had noticed. Call him the Dubliner.

The D. gave way to the above-mentioned pair, for some reason. He had been inveighing against “big shots” to his interlocutor. Of this fellow he asked, “Who’s going to win the game tomorrow? It will be on all day.” The interlocutor, chiding: “You can watch it all day.” The D: “I hope the Giants win.”

Janitor E. shuffles up. In the Dubliner’s…

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