Bar Passalacqua

We would meet on the corner of Flood and Marion and then see what was open. That was the plan. It wasn’t a full scale plan with miniatures and contingencies, but it was a plan.
The hour was upon us. The siege of the coffee shop. Work at nine, we couldn’t miss this opportunity. A 7am coffee. We met, the plan was thrown into action like a rag doll tossed from a moving car. Wavering through the wind, tossing and turning until it hit the ground. The plan was in motion.
Everywhere was closed. Why was there no B to our plan A? How foolish we were! Then like a diamond in the sky, (Editors Note: Don’t sue us Twinkly Star.) A shining beacon of hope! «Bar Passalacqua!» What? «I said Bar Passalacqua!» How do you spell it? «I don’t know how to say it!»
Open bright and early on Marion Street we had found our golden opportunity for browned beans and sitting beneath the slightly grey sky, fearing the rain, we sat. The coffees were ordered and the feast was upon us.
The café was full of people, even at this untimely hour, people filled the small interiors and spilled out onto the street, supping their coffees and eating their focaccia’s.
Famous for being very Italian and having excellent coffees we sat until a friendly face walked by and we chatted only for a moment. 7am plan for coffee, complete success. Thank you Bar Passalacqua!