Emir's Mediterranean Cafe - Part 3

Elma fastened her eyes on Emir's adamsapple, still trying to catch her breath. And he started to uncover his medium rare idea after swallowing his palate's juice rushed suddenly into his mouth:

"Okay, what was I saying? Yes! We'r gonna rock guys, this cafe's gonna turn into a temple!"

Calcuta crossed his arms, the Chef shifted his weight to the other leg and rolled his eyes, Elma didn't move.

"A camera right there (pointing with his index finger, through the beaded curtain, at a dark corner inside), on all day long, for an entire week! how about that?" his eyes scanned everyone's faces to find sparks of excitement: "I will send the recording to the producer of that famous tv show with this weird name, gibbs or gibbos whatever". "Waning Gibbous" corrected Calcuta playing with the soon-to-be-lit cigarette in his hand. "Yes, that shit!..Imagine guys, if they like the atmosphere and what we go through they might shoot a few episodes here!"

 

The Chef started to rub his chin. Elma had already eaten the strawberry gloss off her lips when the old lady, a regular customer, sitting at the table behind the mac guy called her name with a piercing voice: "Elmaaaaa, pour some tea for me, pleeeeaase" and song#7 started: Petit Pays by Cesaria Evora.
 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LbN8bk9ljQw