Thus an old lady to herself as she waddles through an outdoor café in the center of Zagreb and peddles flowers. Indeed, there is not a single woman in sight. There are a few tables with several men sitting together, and a few tables with single men. Looking after her, I keep smiling and smiling. The old lady must have a special view of the world. A woman sitting alone, good. A man and a woman sitting together, excellent. Two women sitting together, somewhat good. A bunch of men and women sitting together, fair. Two men sitting together, bad. A man sitting alone, the pits. And she knows her trade inside and out. Flowers can smell people from afar. In fact, she did not even look at me as she waddled past my table.