Parking is easy when I go to the Morning Owl Café because it’s in the middle of an industrial area. As I walk to the café from my car, I see an overgrown grassy strip between two warehouses. There is nothing in the fenced-off space and it can’t be accessed.
At the counter I order knafeh French toast and a cold-brew coffee. I see my co-workers outside and sit down on the picnic bench with them. I greet them with a ‘What’s up, fuckos?’ They cover their mouths to laugh. Of the five of us, three have had controlling, abusive patriarchs in our lives. When I pay close attention, I can see it when they interact with customers. Now I know why we all clicked. As a young man I didn’t understand why I got on with these kinds of people, why I seemed to be drawn to their scent, energy or the way they communicated. Now all I have to do is dig into their past.
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