the week before last, at a corner cafe with outdoor seating, we were sitting inside by the window. outside a dog visibly whined, barking at any attempts of comfort from strangers. there’s no such thing as an uncute dog in the mission, and no breed preferences were immediately apparent.

a couple stood warily by the entrance, both dressed in the style of early-1970s-era hippies, lacking much of the contemporary updates. I dubbed them “retro couple.” they eventually sat down outside, the girl shielding herself from her companion with her over-sized purse, woven straw. she kept brushing her cheeks under her large sunglasses before it became apparent: she’s crying underneath those sunglasses. C wondered what their issues were. the guy, despite appearing to be ambivalent bordering on indifferent and a tinge defensive on first look, showed how much he cared by helping her block the wind to light her cigarette. when we left, I wanted to linger close and long enough by to eavesdrop to get some idea of the specifics. but it wasn’t possible without being outright rude. we headed off to the market, leaving retro couple to their public display of mislaid affections.