I am an anachronism
Sitting in Cafe Gitane on Mott Street having breakfast, I noticed 16 other people sitting, couples, friends, soon to be couples, all engaged in talking nonstop but also engaged in their iPhones. A couple across from me in their thirties, him wearing the type of hat my father would have worn, looking into their iPhones. The men in front of me, in their thirties, friends or going to be a couple, hard to say, nonstop talking, then one goes to the bathroom and the other instantly whips out iPhone and begins furiously writing something. Two girls, Asian eyes, talk, iPhone, talk, iPhone, talk, iPhone.
Two other people were sitting there reading the New York Times. Me and a grey haired man with glasses.