Saturdays are really the worst. Gone are the quiet parks, the empty park benches and sitting room on the trams. Banished until Monday is the stillness of the alleyways, the casual conversation in the cafes and the lingering pedestrians.
Saturdays are for the busy bodies. Uncaged for their two days of exercise, the modern day workers celebrate and binge on their weekend freedom with a vengeance. They pack shopping malls and restaurants like desperately hungry locusts feasting on crops, leaving echoes of their madness in the wake.
As one who has long since picked the lock to my own cage, I now cringe at the weekend experience. Indeed, nothing is better than Monday mornings at the cafe.
The foreplay of the full coffee sitting, temptingly on my table. I resist her gaze and play hard to get. Reading the paper, skipping the sports, but enjoying the horoscopes with a smile. I take my first sip and shatter the foam art on top.
No photos found for specified shortcodeThe next half hour is filled with purposeful love making to my coffee. Long embraces, not rushed with the urgency of the moment. My last orgasmic sip is cherished with the sort of pleasure a wage slave can only dream of.
I stumble out of the cafe in the sort of natural high (ok, maybe not so natural) that comes post cafe coitus to explore the afternoon’s delights before the witching hour of 5pm arrives.
If I were on a vacation, I wouldn’t spend my time dreaming away, watching the wheels go round and round like this. But long term travel is such a different experience. It allows you to enjoy the hidden moments of your time. It gives you Monday as it takes away Saturday. And it shows you the value of relaxed, un-rushed exploration of time an space.
So come, join me you long term travelers! Leave your Saturdays to others! Join me on our Monday mornings and celebrate the immense difference.