The Passage to Lusfield - 洛斯菲尔德之行(14)

I exited the church and decided to take a drink. 
I took a detour, passing by the Big Sister's Fried Chicken, where I saw mobs of pensioners taking off their coats and hanging them in a temporary wardrobe right next to the entrance. I couldn't resist picking up that they were practicing exhibitionism and weren't wearing anything else other than the flimsy overcoats. They then sat down, in a single file rhythm, at nearly all the tables in the restaurant, and started to play with their penises in many different gestures. The place was crowded with fat silhouettes, but none of the customers were ordering. One old man with Mediterranean clothing who didn't have any companions started mumbling stuff to himself like a Buddha. He pulled a convertible umbrella from his backpack and stared at me through the window. Then, the rain, which just added fuss to the collections of continuous discords by tires and cops who hung around at the corner of the avenue. Around the electric pole which had propaganda posters, the broken street lamp was sprinkling fluorescence on the ground, which made the cold weather even more appalling. Plus, I was longing for a drink of vodka to warm myself up. Thus, I parked on the curb and entered the restaurant.