Clowns need café express, too.
Between Place Stravinsky and Centre Pompidou, I saw a clown relaxing and sipping a strong café express (espresso) at Café Beaubourg. As we walked to the front doors of the Pompidou, beneath the escalator tubes, the clown finished his “boisson chaude” and got up and walked to a concrete column where he had left his “équipement special” for his magic tricks (I’m guessing). In seconds he had buttoned up his clown jacket and started pulling out and setting up props.
You know, sometimes you just need to get a little shot of caffeine in your system before you can get to work. I know I do.