Yaritza flips the closed sign, spins the red leather chair around and pats the cushion. "Ay, no, papi, you are late. Sit, I got you. The shop is closed, but this chair is not." Ay, papi, there you are. The shop is closed, the street is quiet and the music is low. Sit in the red chair and tell me what kind of week it was. I got you.