Looks can be deceiving
If looks are deceiving, then this place is ghastly. The depressing exterior adorns the tried and true shell mud that the Spanish so very much favored while sparking the flame that is the European civilizations in Florida. The old broken down look of the place is worn like a badge of honor that stands not-so-proudly in the heart of the ancient city. The little hut hides behind its protective neighbors that tower above despite the fact that it has stood at that spot, however weakly, since before a lifetime included electricity. The tables out front look frighteningly of place: if the building is a decrepit and senile man, then the tables are children who think that their world of dirt and weather is the best type of life on planet earth. The tables look as though they have never seen the light of day, let alone a storm that destroys everything in its path, as though it is a machine. The infant like tables highlight the ancient appearance of the place.
If looks are deceiving, then you should rely on your smell. It starts out as a thread of bread that is easily confused with others lining the street. The ice cream parlor, the bakery, or one of the fifty restaurants that litter the historic street. Closer and closer you go feeling a small tug that transforms into a full-blown drag into this bakery. The intoxicating smells haul you into the small dingy interior. You wonder why you are inside as you walk out with the warm, delicious smelling bread. You did not have a choice. Between the smell and the warm smile of the cashier you were forced to buy it. But before you feel guilty, you take a bite and melt into a pile of gooey greatness.
If looks are deceiving, then I hope that the next place I go to is disastrous.