The Third Street Cafe is open again. 

No, no, no. There’s no trendy new establishment on Third Street where the Mojo used to be.

I’m talking about the green metal table in the front yard of our limestone apartment building. Currently we have two green plastic chairs (one mysteriously broken on the seat) and two metal chairs Hepcat found on the street last week.

But the cafe is in full swing. Last night, an assortment of neighbors feasted on whatever was in the fridge; cold Sake, German beer, an assortment of cheeses, cherry tomatoes, and green grapes.

Quite a spread.

Neighbors sat and stood around the green metal table for couple of hours while the kids staged bike, trike and scooter races down Third Street. Our 13-year-old neighbor, Ravi, sat on the stoop and played ragas on his beautiful sitar. He’s only been playing since last summer but he’s gotten really good.

Beaming Bride and Groom, who live down the street, stopped by on their way home from "X-Men" at the Pavilion. They were married quietly  last week at City Hall, a cause of great celebration for all those who have been wishing her nothing but the best since her divorce nine years ago. They met on an Internet dating site (yet another sauces story and I know of so many) and they look really happy together. This is the second marriage for her and the third for him. If anyone else says:  "Three is the Charm," like the woman at City Hall and many others (including me)  he will probably swat you.

There was talk of another romantic coupling, a "Yours, Mine, and Ours" type of relationship on Third Street. Neighbors offered their theories. Were they still together or had things cooled off a bit?

We laughed at ourselves even as the gossip spilled out of our mouths. Stoop sitting and gossip seem so intricately in-twined. You can’t have one without the other. Or can you?