Toscanini’s Only the boldest lit concentrator and Toscanini’s regular takes his MacBook to the minimalist outside tables, where he can
By FM Staff
Oct 18, 2006
Toscanini’s
Only the boldest lit concentrator and Toscanini’s
regular takes his MacBook to the minimalist outside tables, where he
can pretend to read (but actually just be seen with) post-colonialist
Prof. Homi K. Bhabha’s “The Location of Culture.” In addition to his
leather manbag stuffed with Marlboro Reds and Saturday night show
tickets for the Middle East, he sports an ironic Communist slogan
T-shirt. But don’t be fooled by the façade of pretension; he’s
actually quite approachable—when it comes to post-Wall Berlin cinema.
Dunkin’ Donuts
Her socks and sandals seemed to go well with her DHA tux
this morning when she rolled out of her rugyby player boyfriend’s bed.
With a tall dark Dunkin’s in hand, she’s off to her 10 a.m. health
policy class. Tonight, she’ll probably return to her table next to the
window to skim her orgo readings. Her book bag contains chapstick,
books from Lamont, extra squash balls, and the Premedical Handbook
(aka, the Bible). She occasionally splurges on a donut, but calls
D.D.’s low-fat blueberry muffin perfection.
Peet's Coffee
The Peet’s regular, an over-hydrated earth and planetary
sciences concentrator whose Nalgene clunks awkwardly from a carabiner
on his CamelBak, chooses cappuccino served straight up in a
biodegradable cup. But just because he’s wearing Teva’s, a flannel
shirt, and Carhartt’s, don’t assume he just got back from the Outing
Club’s kayaking trip—that was last weekend. This Saturday, the Peet’s
aficionado will load up his Volvo with kegs for the PfoHo Bell Tower
rager. He doesn’t live there, but they share a New York Times
subscription.
Starbucks
Fresh from positive psych, the Starbucks sipper snags a
double tall caramel machiatto (non-fat, sugar-free, obv) from her
favorite cuttie barista. Inside her oversized Louis Vuitton, she
carries parking stubs from Newbury Street, Chanel lip gloss, and her
über-essential Treo. She’s careful not to spill on her Sevens or her
chinchilla-trimmed fitted jacket; after all, she can’t look a mess at
her 3 o’clock with Gino. He doesn’t give last-minute appointments to
just anyone.
