The chairs were arranged around a central point at the coffee house.  In each of them sat a person more likely to keep their nose in a cup of steaming coffee in a kind of ritualistic way, as if to ward off the late March chill, than anything else.  If they knew each other, they’d be more likely to be chatty and bubbly, even this early in the morning, so it was obvious from the whole arrangement that something was up.  I couldn’t help but listen in when someone rose to speak.

When materials were handed out and the speechifying started, it became obvious.  These were Census workers, learning the details of their new trade.

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