Thursday, July 1, 2010

Cafes

Cafes here are not the same breed as their yuppie, trendy beverage serving versions stateside. First off, if you asked for a frappuccino here, and by some miracle the guy actually knew what you were talking about, the response would be akin to "what kind of ass drinks coffee cold?"
If you want to envision a Morrocan cafe, you first have to forget the image of the wifi enabled hipster hotbed with cozy chairs and chilled out blues covers that is your typical starbucks. These here cafes are for men only. Spending time at a cafe is one of the many means this country provides for creating an instant sausagefest. A typical evening sesh here includes watching Barca (or Real if you have no soul) amidst a haze of cigarette smoke while a group of crazy old dudes violently play rummy, shout gibberish and drink tea. Yes, rummy is a dangerous game. Cafes are filled with cursing, inane arguments and random outbursts of noise...but not booze. Still these things are pure, unadulterated man.
Keeping all of this in mind, now imagine sitting at one of these establishments on the first day a new cd player/speaker system has just been set up. Whatever music comes on will surely set the mood for the suspicious crowd mumbling their doubts in between drags. The stereo is turned on and the first songs played are:

"Everywhere" by Michelle Branch
"Respect" by Aretha Franklin
"Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cindi Lauper (2x)

That's right, the third song ever played in this joint was that 80s hit classic, followed immediately by that exact same tune. The only two explanations for the repetition are (a) the owner put the song on the CD twice, in succession or (b) upon hearing the magic that is Ms. Lauper, whoever was in charge decided to play it again. I'm not exactly sure which is more absurd. Upon hearing these tracks I figured we would have a revolt on our hands. What I had forgotten was that Moroccan men are ridiculous. They ate that shit up.