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  • The chairs would soon be at work. But, ah, not quite yet.

    There was still time to keep playing, "Let's make a tower."

    There was still time to make the night fun last. There was still time to climb up all over each other----"Hey, get that leg out of my back!"----"You should talk, you've got your seat on my rib cage."----"Shh....here comes somebody...."----"Just some tourist with a camera, but did you hear about Table Five last night and what he did to her with that blond pizza?!"

    The chairs kept it deadpan as I approached and admired their early morning summer acrobatics outside the Italian restaurant on Rue Censier, in the Fifth Arrondissement.

    The worked cane, the cafe rattan seats, the equipoise of the chair tower, their discretion in keeping the chair murmur low, in their morning pre-work stories of the night before.

    Chairs and tables all over Paris in all manner of gossip and conversation, played until the bell tolled and they had to take up their positions in service.
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