A man walks into the Rio Lima Café. He says something to the half-dozen customers propping themselves up on the counter sipping espressos and bitching about the rain. I can’t catch what he says, but everyone else finds it hilarious and then they all follow him out of the café, even the proprietress, who locks up and leaves me alone with my coffee and an entire pastry case full of temptations. Surely this is some kind of initiation I’m meant to fail.

Bio: Bob Lucky