"Are you trying to insult me?" 

"No, hombre, only to make a joke." 

"No," the waiter who was in a hurry said, rising from pulling down the metal shutters. "I have confidence. I am all confidence." 

"You have youth, confidence, and a job," the older waiter said. "You have everything." 

"And what do you lack?" 

"Everything but work." 

"You have everything I have." 

"No. I have never had confidence and I am not young." 

"Come on. Stop talking nonsense and lock up." 

"I am of those who like to stay late at the cafe," the older waiter said. 

"With all those who do not want to go to bed. With all those who need a light for the night." 

"I want to go home and into bed." 

"We are of two different kinds," the older waiter said. He was now dressed to go home. "It is not only a question of youth and confidence although those things are very beautiful. Each night I am reluctant to close up because there may be some one who needs the cafe." 

"Hombre, there are bodegas open all night long." 

"You do not understand. This is a clean and pleasant cafe. It is well lighted. The light is very good and also, now, there are shadows of the leaves." 

"Good night," said the younger waiter. 

"Good night," the other said. Turning off the electric light he continued the conversation with himself, It was the light of course but it is necessary that the place be clean and pleasant. You do not want music. Certainly you do not want music. Nor can you stand before a bar with dignity although that is all that is provided for these hours. What did he fear? It was not a fear or dread, It was a nothing that he knew too well. It was all a nothing and a man was a nothing too. It was only that and light was all it needed and a certain cleanness and order. Some lived in it and never felt it but he knew it all was nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada. Our nada who art in nada, nada be thy name thy kingdom nada thy will be nada in nada as it is in nada. Give us this nada our daily nada and nada us our nada as we nada our nadas and nada us not into nada but deliver us from nada; pues nada. Hail nothing full of nothing, nothing is with thee. He smiled and stood before a bar with a shining steam pressure coffee machine.

"What's yours?" asked the barman. 

"Nada." 

"Otro loco mas," said the barman and turned away. 

"A little cup," said the waiter. 

The barman poured it for him. 

"The light is very bright and pleasant but the bar is unpolished," the waiter said. 

The barman looked at him but did not answer. It was too late at night for conversation. 

"You want another copita?" the barman asked. 

"No, thank you," said the waiter and went out. He disliked bars and bodegas. A clean, well-lighted cafe was a very different thing. Now, without thinking further, he would go home to his room. He would lie in the bed and finally, with daylight, he would go to sleep. After all, he said to himself, it's probably only insomnia. Many must have it. 

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